The Stars Walk Backward
by boasamishipper
Summary: While training with Luke Skywalker, Finn discovers a clue regarding his mother's whereabouts, and Rey struggles to accept recently revealed secrets. Meanwhile, a Stormtrooper rebellion is on the rise, Poe plans a rescue mission, and Kylo Ren's plans for the fate of the galaxy turn sinister... / Sequel to Warped Stars. Cover by me.
1. Chapter I

Finn used to be a Stormtrooper, and Stormtroopers have many rules.

There are rules about weapons and fraternization and when to kill and when to maim. There are rules about orders and Orders. There are rules about who to never disobey. There are enough rules to fill up the cargo hold of every base in the Outer Rims, enough rules to drown in.

But one of the rules that he has grown to disregard since leaving the First Order is this: never trust your instincts. He can still hear Captain Phasma telling him and the other Young Cadets that the only orders a good Stormtrooper follows are those of their commanding officer. In the First Order, she had said, there was no room for improvisation or deviation from the norm.

It had been hard to accept that he was breaking a rule he had diligently followed for twenty-three rotations. Then again, if he hadn't decided to trust his instincts and disregard his orders, he never would have defected from the First Order. He never would have joined the Resistance and become friends with Black Squadron, nor would he have discovered his Force-sensitivity. He never would have met and fallen in love with Rey. And he definitely never would have traveled hundreds of miles with Rey to deliver the lightsaber from Maz's castle back to its rightful owner.

If that's not deviating from the norm, then he doesn't know what is.

After what seems like an eternity of hesitation, Luke Skywalker reaches out to take the lightsaber from Rey. His metal fingers gingerly trace the handle, his expression inscrutable save for the conflicted amazement still shining through. Then he looks up to face both of them again. "Where did you get this?"

Finn exchanges a nervous glance with Rey. "Takodana," he says. "Maz Kanata had it. For safekeeping."

Skywalker snorts. "Of course she did," he says, almost fondly. His voice is hoarse, like he hasn't had much cause to use it over the last several years. Those strange small birds fluttering all over the island don't exactly seem like stunning conversationalists. "Did Maz send you here?"

It's clear from the way he says it that he already knows the answer, but Rey shakes her head anyway. "The Resistance sent us," she says. "Your sister did. Leia."

Skywalker's grip tightens imperceptibly on the lightsaber's handle at the mention of his sister's name. "Why did the Resistance send you? Where are you from?"

Finn opens his mouth and closes it, embarrassed that he doesn't have a proper answer. He had grown up on a First Order base in the Outer Rims, spent several days on Jakku, and lived with the Resistance on D'Qar, but as to where he's from, where he had been born...he has no idea. A sidelong glance at Rey shows that she's also struggling with the question, and when she speaks it appears to be for both of them: "Nowhere."

"No one's from nowhere."

"I'm from Jakku."

"I'm from Tatooine. _That's_ nowhere." The corners of Skywalker's mouth quirk upward. For a brief instant Finn sees the man Skywalker used to be—the young, confident hero of the Rebellion—but then the moment (and the smile) fades. "Why are you here?"

That takes him slightly aback. Hadn't Skywalker heard Rey's earlier explanation? "We're here because the Resistance sent us," Finn repeats. "The First Order's growing in strength and we can't defeat them without you."

He'd thought that had been a sufficient explanation, but Skywalker shakes his head. "Had that been the only reason, the Resistance would have sent a droid to find me. So I ask again, why are _you_ here?"

Rey's hand brushes his and clutches it like a lifeline—he can tell that she is just as rattled as he is that Skywalker had taken one look at them and gotten straight to the heart of the matter, but she hides it better. Her eyes flicker to the edge of the island, where the distant waves crash against the shore, and she straightens imperceptibly like she's bracing herself. "Something inside me—inside us—has always been there. And now it's awake. We don't know what it is, or what to do with it. And we need your help."

Her words echo in the clearing, bouncing off the stones around them. Finn's eyes shift between Rey, whose expression is stubbornly hopeful, and Skywalker, who has gone completely still. But instead of giving them a reply or a gesture of acknowledgement, Skywalker just turns on his heel and walks off.

"Wait!" The word escapes before he can stop it, or even think of another one. He takes a step forward, and then another one, his incredulity giving way to anger. He and Rey hadn't traveled hundreds of miles on General Organa's orders just to be ignored when they ask for help. "Don't just—you can't just walk away without giving us an answer!"

Skywalker walks toward a path that meanders down the side of the island, tossing one last comment over his shoulder before he disappears. "Isn't this answer enough?"

 _Maybe so,_ Finn thinks, _but it's not an answer that I'm going to accept_. Nor is it an answer that Rey has accepted: she is holding her staff in a white-knuckled grip and her jaw is clenched tight enough to grind her teeth to dust. "I can't believe this."

"I know. You'd have thought General Organa would have warned us that her brother is just as stubborn as she is." Finn's pleased that he manages to elicit a laugh from Rey even through her anger. He sits down on a nearby rock, propping his chin on his hands. "What should we do?"

"We need him to hear us out," Rey says. "And we can't do that by force—he'd overpower both of us in seconds."

Finn doesn't doubt that for an instant. Even if he and Rey had both held their own against Kylo Ren, Skywalker could probably still beat them with one hand tied behind his back. "Then I guess there's nothing to do but go after him," he says decisively.

Rey offers her hand to him, and he gratefully takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet before the two of them take off after Skywalker.

The mud mixed in with the rocks and the overgrown grass makes the path that Skywalker had taken difficult to navigate. Finn has to grab Rey's shoulder several times in order to keep his balance. By the time the path evens out and comes to a stop in another clearing, he is breathing heavily and his muscles ache from fatigue.

It's much foggier down here; less green and more gray, harder to see. Uneven chunks of mountain are just visible in the distance, and if he concentrates he can still hear the ocean waves splashing against the rocks near the shore. There's something else several feet away, something that he can't quite make out through the mist. "Can you see that?" he asks Rey. "That weird structure up ahead?"

Rey's eyes narrow. "A little. We ought to get a closer look."

The weird structure up ahead turns out to be a tree, but it's the largest tree he's ever seen. It's almost as big as the conventional junction station back on Starkiller Base. The trunk is warped with age and dotted with green and graying moss, and the branches spiraling from the trunk are bare. There's a doorway-shaped hole in the side, and his hand slides to the blaster holstered at his hip as he and Rey enter.

Leaves and dirt crunch under his feet as he slowly walks to the center of this strange dwelling. A shelf-like structure sits against the wall, and a stack of books are illuminated by a thin beam of sunlight wafting through the branches. Finn steps forward to take a closer look at them—just a look, as he's afraid they'll fall apart if he touches them. The titles are in a language he doesn't understand, so he turns to Rey to ask if she can decipher the symbols but his question comes to an abrupt halt. "You okay?"

"I…" She seems on edge, almost jumpy in a way that she has never been in all the time that Finn has known her. For some reason this place is really freaking her out. "I know it sounds strange, but I could've sworn that...that I've been here before. For some reason this place is familiar."

Thrown for a loop, Finn stares. He has no idea how that's possible as Rey had never left Jakku until they'd gone on the run from the First Order, but she sounds so sure that he believes her anyway. "Maybe you saw it in a dream or something," he offers, remembering the strange visions he'd had of Pava and Kylo Ren after he'd crash-landed on Jakku. "What is this place, anyway?"

"It was built a thousand generations ago." Rey startles and Finn turns around so quickly that he nearly gets whiplash. Sure enough, Luke Skywalker is standing in the entrance of the small room, the lightsaber still in his hand. "To keep these." He nods at the stack of books on the shelf. "The original Jedi texts. Just like me, they're the last of the Jedi religion." He steps forward, his brow furrowing as he looks closer at Rey. "You've seen this place. You've seen this island."

Rey's voice is so soft that it is almost lost in the whistling of the wind outside. "Only in my dreams."

Her answer seems to perturb Skywalker even further, and he frowns at them. "Who are you?"

As Rey is too lost in her thoughts to speak, the duty falls to Finn. "I'm Finn," he says. It's been weeks since he'd chosen that name and yet he still feels an odd little thrill every time he says Finn instead of FN-2187. "And she's Rey." At the sound of Rey's name, Skywalker stiffens like someone has just raised a hand to him. Come to think of it, the action reminds Finn of Solo's reaction when Rey introduced herself on the Millennium Falcon, but he chooses not to dwell on that now. "Master Skywalker, we came here because we need your help. We need someone to show us our place in all this."

Skywalker's shoulders slump, and his defeated expression makes him look about twenty years older. "You need a teacher," he says. "I know. But I can't teach you. I'm sorry."

"What?" Refusing to do it is one thing, but if it's a question of actually being unable to do it… "Why not?"

This is, apparently, the wrong thing to ask. One second Skywalker is across the room and the next second they're face to face. Rey immediately moves to Finn's side, her staff half-raised defensively, and Finn's hand only leaves his holstered blaster once Skywalker takes a step back. "Why not?" He sounds exhausted, like he's given up on everything. "Because I couldn't save my students from being slaughtered by the Knights of Ren. I couldn't prevent my nephew from turning to the Dark Side, and I couldn't stop Snoke and the First Order from gaining so much power in the first place." He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a moment to collect himself before opening them again. "I will never train another generation of Jedi. I came to this island to die." He reaches out and gives the lightsaber back to Rey before turning his back to them. "Take it from me, kid. It's time for the Jedi to end."

Skywalker is almost to the entrance of the dwelling when Rey breaks the silence. "No."

"What?"

"No." She shakes her head, clearly still determined to make Skywalker see sense. Finn admires that, as he's fresh out of ideas of what to say to convince Skywalker to help him. "I understand wanting to hide from a world that's caused you so much pain, and not wanting to move forward, but we came here for your help. The galaxy still needs the Jedi, the Light—it needs Luke Skywalker."

"Kylo Ren and the First Order will slaughter millions of innocent people if you just sit by and do nothing," Finn adds, his stomach twisting at the mere thought of the weapons that the First Order has at their disposal. "It'll make the destruction of the Hosnian System look like—"

"The Hosnian System?" Skywalker whirls around, his voice and eyes sharp. "What happened to the Hosnian System?"

For the second time in less than five minutes, Finn is thoroughly thrown for a loop. He exchanges an uneasy glance with Rey, who looks like she isn't sure if Skywalker is messing with them or not. _Only one way to find out, I guess_. "It...it was destroyed. By Starkiller Base. Like what the Empire did to Alderaan, but on a much larger scale." He searches Skywalker's face for any hint of recognition, only finding horror and dismay. "You...you didn't sense that? Through the Force?"

Skywalker does not reply.

"You disconnected yourself from the Force, didn't you." It's not a question, it's a statement. Skywalker doesn't deny it. "I heard stories about that growing up, but I didn't know…" Rey doesn't finish her sentence, but Finn hears its conclusion all the same: _I didn't know if it was true or not._ "Why did you do that?"

"The pain of losing so many people I cared about…it was too hard to bear." Finn remembers Solo's story about how Luke had lost his wife and child and feels a pang of guilt and sadness. He may understand why Skywalker had turned away from the Force and exiled himself on Ahch-To, but he doesn't agree. After all, he hadn't given into despair when Rey had been kidnapped by Kylo Ren…

Rey seems to be thinking along the same lines. "Well, we both lost someone we cared about and we didn't turn away from the Force," she says bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry," Skywalker says, quiet but genuine. "I…who did you lose?"

Finn opens his mouth and closes it. He doesn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but if Skywalker hadn't known about the destruction of the Hosnian System, then he must have missed another event as well. "Our friend," he finally says, his grief threatening to choke him. "Your friend. Han Solo."

* * *

After listening to Finn and Rey's explanation of everything that had happened in the last few weeks, Luke is grateful that they allow him a moment to collect himself. He hadn't been able to stand the pity in their eyes when they told him about the Resistance's ongoing battle against the First Order, or how many people had been killed as a result of the destruction of the Hosnian System. Or how Han had died.

Luke sinks into the booth that encases the dejarik table, smiling faintly as he recalls Threepio playing against Chewie at this very table on their way to Alderaan, how Han had smirked around his comment that Wookiees tended to rip out people's arms when they lost. How, many months later, Leia had trounced Han so thoroughly at dejarik that his stupefied reaction had nearly made Luke cry from laughter.

So much has changed since then. They're all older, greyer, more jaded. Leia is alone on D'Qar, somehow managing a rebellion deep in battle against the sinister First Order. He has sequestered himself on this island to look for answers that he knows in his soul will never be enough. And Han is dead, killed by the son that he had loved more than anything in the galaxy. By the son that Luke had failed to help.

And now these two—a former Stormtrooper and a former scavenger—have come to him on Leia's orders for help that he can no longer give. He hadn't regretted turning away from the Force all those years ago, but now his guilt threatens to choke him. They want him to train them in the ways of the Force so they can take down Ben (no, not Ben anymore, Kylo Ren) once and for all, but he can't. He _can't_.

 _Don't lie to me, Luke_ , he imagines Mara saying. _The desire to be out there saving the galaxy is so thick in your blood I can hear it screaming from here._

He lets out a shuddering breath, lowering his head into his hands. Fourteen years since her death and he still misses his wife so much that it feels like a constant ache under his ribs. And his beloved daughter, who he can still picture so clearly in his mind's eye. Her brown hair and toothy smile. The fuss she'd kick up when she couldn't have sweets before dinner. The way she would come running to him on his trips back from the Jedi school, shrieking with joy as he twirled her around while Mara laughed…

The girl from Jakku shares his daughter's name. That had been a surprise.

He can tell that Finn and Rey are both strong in the Force, stronger than he has seen since—well, since Kylo Ren. But it's clear that these two are nothing like his wayward nephew. _Besides, if Ben Kenobi hadn't agreed to train me, I never would have left Tatooine, or met Han and Leia. I never would have found out about my family, or helped blow up the Death Star. The Empire would have won._

 _If I don't help them, who knows what will happen to the galaxy?_

* * *

Night falls not long after they leave Skywalker to his thoughts in the Millennium Falcon, bringing with it a biting cold wind (making her grateful for the shawl Leia had packed for her) and thousands of droplets of water pouring from the sky. Rain.

She's never seen rain before. Jakku's storms had only kicked up sand and dust and grit and a shrieking wind that had made her stuff her ears with cotton to block out the noise. But this—the smell, the sound, the sight…

"I can't believe this is real," Rey marvels. "Water just…falls from the sky here. And everyone has enough to drink, and there's so much green and everything is growing and…" Her voice catches in her throat. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah." Finn's voice is shaky too. She wonders if this is his first time seeing the rain, or if he's never taken the time to really look at it before. But then he's nudging her on the shoulder, grinning like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Let's go out in it."

That startles an incredulous laugh out of her. "What?"

"Come on, it'll be fun."

He offers his hand to her, and she lets him pull her out into the rain. The raindrops patter against her skin and drip down her face, coinciding with the roar of the ocean waves splashing up against the cliffs, and it's _amazing_. The mud squishes underneath her feet as she and Finn twirl around and laugh at each other's exaggerated antics, and she feels truly free for the first time since they had danced in her AT-AT.

"Tomorrow at dawn."

Rey turns around so quickly that she nearly trips and takes Finn down with her. Skywalker stands beneath the roof of the Falcon, watching them with a strange look on his face. Strange, yet familiar. "What?"

"I'll teach you the ways of the Jedi," he says. "Everything you need to know. In return, you'll go back to the Resistance without me and help Leia take down the First Order once and for all. We'll start tomorrow at dawn."

Part of her wants to contest his decision to not return to the Resistance with them, but he had agreed to teach them, and that concession is far more than she had expected. Besides, maybe over the course of their lessons she and Finn can convince Skywalker to come back with them anyway. So she nods. "Should we meet you in the clearing?"

"No," he says. "I'll come to you." He pulls his hood up over his head, giving them one last searching look. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

 _To my new readers, welcome! To my old readers, welcome back! This fic has been a long time in the making, and I'm very excited to finally be able to share it with you all. Barring any RL complications, updates will be every two weeks._

 _Stay tuned for Chapter II, in which a First Order officer is captured, Black Squadron is dealt a shocking revelation, and the beginnings of a Stormtrooper rebellion ignite._


	2. Chapter II

Located on the desert world of Cantonica, Canto Bight is a casino city and playground for the galaxy's ultra-rich. It's a place of both opportunity and high stakes, filled with casinos, racetracks, and other expensive distractions. It also seems to be the only place in the galaxy that's actually benefited from the New Republic's recent disarray. Not that that's much of a shock—most of the casino's patrons are war profiteers, and war doesn't take a day off, not even out of respect for the millions lost in the destruction of the Hosnian System.

Traveling here hadn't been Poe's idea, far from it. He'd rather be on the receiving end of a court martial than stay one more day on Canto Bight, but General Organa had ordered Black Squadron to track down Lieutenant Mitaka, a First Order officer who the Resistance's intel had spotted somewhere in this cesspool of glitz and glamor. Mitaka used to work on Starkiller Base, and the information that he possesses could help the Resistance take down the First Order once and for all.

And for the chance to help the cause—the cause that Pava had given her life for—no risk is too great.

The casino is packed with people and aliens of all races and genders, each dressed fancier than the one before. The dinging of the slot machines mixes together with the sound of poker chips clacking and the chatter of people throwing down credits and coins in the hopes of hitting it big. A Wookiee is standing in the corner taking bets on podracing, nuna-ball, and Odupiendo racing, all of which are displayed on the surrounding telescreens. Poe leans against a column in the back, watching the crowd go by in the hopes that Mitaka will stumble past him. Casually, his hand goes to his earpiece. "Anyone seen the target yet?"

" _Not yet, Black Leader,"_ comes Karé's apologetic voice. Last he'd seen her, she'd been on one of the balconies watching the fathier races. Poe hopes that whatever bigshot tycoon had been flirting with her earlier had escaped with his pride and bones intact.

" _No luck here either,"_ Snap answers. He's sitting at one of the jhabacc tables, staring down at his cards. Poe can just make out the back of Snap's head from his current position. " _It's still early though."_

Poe sighs. True as that may be, he doesn't feel like waiting around any longer—he needs to at least pretend he's doing something productive. "Fair," he concedes, careful to keep his voice down. "I'm heading to the bar. Give a shout if you spot anything."

" _Roger that, Black Leader."_

Pushing off the column, he moves through the middle of the casino and takes the nearest empty sweat at the long metallic bar. The bartender—a lithe Zabrak with silver skin and moonblue horns—barely looks up from the glass she's polishing. "What can I get for you?"

"Black ale, please," Poe says, and thanks the bartender when he receives his drink. The glass is chrome-plated silver, shiny enough that he can see his own slightly-warped expression. Some of the patrons give him a respectful nod as they pass him by, and that makes the alcohol curdle in his stomach. If there's one thing he hates more than this terrible place, it's the worst people in the galaxy treating him like he _belongs_ in this terrible place.

"I'll have a glass of Corellian merlot," says a voice to Poe's right, and it takes every ounce of willpower Poe has to not choke on his ale. Instead, he takes another sip and casually glances to the side, taking in as much as he can in the span of a second. Small stature, dark hair, shoulders stiff in civilian clothes. This is their man. "Leave the bottle."

Poe decides to speak up after Mitaka pours himself a second glass of merlot and knocks it back the same way most people knock back firewater on Life Day. "Had a rough day?"

Mitaka startles, looking rather bewildered at the question. "What?"

"Just asked if you had a rough day." Poe nods at the wine glass in the other man's hand. "Seems like you're drinking to forget rather than to have fun."

"Oh." Mitaka's shoulders slump and he drains the rest of his drink dramatically, like continuing this conversation will require all the liquid courage he can get. "It's been a…difficult few days. I lost my job."

"Sorry to hear that," Poe says, even though he's never been less sorry about anything in his life. He takes another sip of ale as a pair of Neimoidians pass by, their own gilded glasses in hand. "It's been a difficult few days all around. You hear about the Hosnian System?"

Mitaka's fingers tap quickly on the counter. "It'd be hard not to hear about it," he says with a nervous chuckle. "It's on every telescreen in the galaxy; impossible to miss."

Poe hums noncommittally. He could stretch out the small talk for a few seconds longer—at least until Karé and Snap make their way over to the bar—but his instincts are screaming at him to start showing his cards now. "Yeah," he says, keeping his voice low and calm. "I hear you're the type of person with…insider information on that."

The blow lands. Mitaka straightens like he's been stuck with a pin. "How did you—"

"How'd I know that?" Poe's grin is sharp and adrenaline is pumping through his veins even though he's done nothing more strenuous than talk and take sips of his drink. "I know a lot of things. You've become pretty famous, Lieutenant. On both sides of the war."

To his credit, Mitaka's voice stays remarkably steady even as his hands spasm in his lap. "So which side of the war are you on?"

"The side that's a bit more lenient toward First Order deserters," Poe retorts. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of bleached-blond hair and lavender fabric and knows that Karé's heading this way, so he lays the rest of his cards on the table. "The Resistance wants information. Come quietly, and we'll be lenient. If you don't cooperate, you'll be someone else's problem. Defection from the First Order's punishable by more than just a dishonorable discharge, isn't it?" He leans forward in his chair, waiting, watching. "So what's it going to be?"

In answer, Mitaka smashes the bottle of Corellian merlot against the counter and lunges out of his chair.

Poe launches himself backwards, barely dodging the jagged edge of the bottle as he falls out of his chair and onto the floor with a thud. His fight-or-flight instincts kick in and he throws a punch at Mitaka that the smaller man actually dodges. Most of the people around them are screaming while a few are cursing at him and Mitaka for interrupting their concentration, and Poe can't bring himself to give a damn about any of them.

Neither of them have landed a blow yet, so he decides to change the game. He grabs Mitaka by the wrist and uses the momentum to shove him back against the bar counter in the hopes of knocking him out, but that only succeeds in making Mitaka drop the bottle on the floor. Now they're both fighting hand to hand—at least until Mitaka pulls out a switchblade. _Shit._

Poe ducks Mitaka's punch and sidesteps the next one as their brawl moves away from the bar and towards the card tables. Snap is yelling in his earpiece and Karé's pushing her way through the crowd and Poe grabs someone's purse—the closest thing he can reach—and throws it at Mitaka's head. His aim's a little off and it sails right over the other man's head, hitting an older alien woman on the back of the neck, so he grabs a nearby chair and uses it to knock Mitaka off his feet.

It doesn't work as well as he'd expected. Poe falls down from the momentum and Mitaka flies backwards and crashes into Snap, whose grip he escapes with minimal effort. But he doesn't keep his bearings for very long because Karé is suddenly there, emptying the contents of a syringe into Mitaka's neck. Instantly Mitaka slumps to the ground, out for the count at last.

Poe accepts Karé's outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Nice moves, Karé," he praises. To the stunned civilians all around them, he says, "New Republic business. Go back to your drinks."

Unsurprisingly, most of them do—but not without loudly scoffing about all the commotion and spouting their opinions on how low-class scum like them should never have been allowed inside. Poe swears that as soon as the war is over, he will take great pleasure in burning this Force-forsaken place to the ground.

Poe turns back to face his friends, and whatever snarky comment he'd been about to make dies in his throat as his heart seizes in panic.

Snap is bleeding. Snap is leaning heavily against Karé and Mitaka's knife is buried to the hilt in his side and he's bleeding. He's hurt.

Poe is by his friend's side before he even registers moving. Karé's already fiddling with the rip in Snap's suit jacket, pulling it away slightly to see the torn flesh and the blade. The good news is there's not a lot of blood. The bad news is neither he nor Karé can tell how deep the blade is buried.

"It must be holding in the circulation," Karé is saying, her voice strident with suppressed panic. "We can't take it out here."

Snap winces. He's already going pale, paler than normal. Poe directs him to one of the few chairs left abandoned and unbroken by the fight. "Do I get a say in this?"

"No," Poe and Karé say together.

While Karé rings up Oddy on the shared commslink and tells him to bring the ship around right kriffing now, Poe's eyes fall to Lieutenant Mitaka, who looks for all the world like he's just curled up to take a nap on the floor. _You had better be worth all this trouble, you prick._

"You're gonna be just fine, buddy," Poe promises. Snap's weak grin is only somewhat reassuring. "Karé, you grab Mitaka. Snap, you lean on me. Let's get back to base."

* * *

Snap Wexley's surgery has just concluded by the time Leia makes her way toward the interrogation rooms in the basement of the administration building, and from the looks of it, he's going to be just fine. He'll be laid up for a few days—which will definitely end up spurring some arguments between him and Dr. Kalonia—but should be back in his X-Wing in no time. Considering the recent losses of Jessika Pava and Markus Dinoa, it seems like Black Squadron's luck is changing for the better.

They could all use some good luck right about now.

Leia schools her expression as she enters the interrogation room and shuts the door behind her. Handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room is Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka, the target of Black Squadron's mission. He's smaller and slighter than she'd expected; younger, too. He doesn't speak or outwardly react as she moves closer, and his eyes follow her as she circles around him.

"So," she says once a full minute of silence has passed and Mitaka has begun to shift awkwardly in his chair. "Do you know who I am?"

To his credit, Mitaka meets her gaze unflinchingly. "Yes. You're General Leia Organa. Former princess of Alderaan, sister of Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, current head of the Resistance." He recites it quickly, like he's reading a bulleted list of information that he knows by heart.

"Very good. And you're Dopheld Mitaka. You graduated at the top of your Academy class, served in the First Order as a lieutenant, and recently went AWOL following the destruction of Starkiller Base." Surprise flickers across his face and disappears just as quickly. With the records that Maz and Lieutenant Connix had drawn up, she probably knows Mitaka better than his own mother. "And you have information that I want."

"Maybe," he says. Clearly the last few hours have given him some time to come up with a strategy. "But I'm not talking until there's something in it for me."

That makes her laugh. "I don't believe you're in any position to negotiate, Mr. Mitaka. For all I know, you don't know enough to earn a drink of _water._ And if that's the case, the New Republic is still strong enough to sentence you to a lifetime in prison—though considering the depth of your crimes, you'll be lucky if they don't just throw you in a rancor pit to rot." She leans forward, keeping her voice soft but no less menacing. "So if you want to deal, I suggest you stop negotiating and start talking. Then, and only then, we can talk about what your information buys you."

Silence. Mitaka eyes Leia nervously (good, that means she's still got it in her after all these years) before giving her a defeated nod. "Alright," he says. "What do you want to know?"

The next few minutes pass in a series of short questions and rambling answers. Mitaka had been on the lower side of the First Order's hierarchy and therefore hadn't had security clearance for much of the information that Leia actually needs, which is rather disappointing. Still, it's not all bad. Now that Starkiller Base has been destroyed, the First Order will be down on weapons and manpower, and the other Star Destroyers will be less effectively protected.

"I think that the higher members in the leadership realized that the Resistance would destroy Starkiller Base at some point, so they began relocating their engineering projects and personnel to ships like the _Finalizer_ ," Mitaka explains. They've started to veer away from facts and toward speculation, but speculation is better than nothing. "That and their prisoners."

"Their prisoners." She can almost _hear_ Poe and Karé and everyone who's listening in on the other side of the one-way mirror lean forward in their chairs, and she straightens imperceptibly. "What sort of prisoners do you mean? Civilians?"

"No." Mitaka seems to realize that he's struck gold, and he sits up straight in his chair. "Not just civilians, anyway. But in exchange for this information—"

She holds up a hand, stopping his words in their tracks. "I believe that the terms of this agreement were that you would negotiate less and talk more, Mr. Mitaka. Or do I need to remind you about the rancor pits again?"

His shoulders slump again. Good. "We keep civilians prisoner in work camps planetside. Too much hassle to house them on our ships — that's where we keep dissident Troopers or officers, and…" He swallows hard. "And rebel prisoners."

Leia's mouth goes dry. "And who from the Resistance is the First Order currently holding captive?" she asks, even though part of her already suspects the answer to her question.

Mitaka does not disappoint. "A pilot," he says, "by the name of Jessika Pava."

* * *

Slip has spent his entire life feeling out of his element. He's a sorry excuse for a Stormtrooper, or so his instructors and fellow cadets have often said. His battleprep scores are in the single digits, his combat skills are a joke, and he can't even hit the broad side of an enemy X-Wing nine times out of ten. He's awkward and tries too hard and can never fit in no matter what he does. But the chaos of the last few weeks have made him feel even more out of his element than ever before.

To start, Eight-Seven's abrupt defection to the Resistance, a strange broadcast and even stranger excuses from higher command had led Slip to seek answers from a scavenger girl that Kylo Ren had imprisoned. There, he'd listened in shock to the girl's explanation that Eight-Seven (now named Finn) really had been a Stormtrooper and left the First Order because it was (to him) the right thing to do. Then Zeroes of all Troopers—who barely said two words to Slip if he could avoid it—had said that he believed Slip and the girl's story. And then he'd helped fish Captain Phasma out of the trash compactors, escaped Starkiller Base just before it was destroyed by the Resistance, and was now stationed on the _Finalizer._ Honestly, it's enough to make anyone's head spin.

Life on the _Finalizer_ is far different from life on Starkiller Base. There's a lot more focus on combat training and battlepreps than on the Morning and Afternoon and Night Speeches. The base commander, General Henry Kilson, is flinty-eyed and twice as deadly as a pack of rathtars; rumor has it that he doles out harsh punishments for even the slightest indiscretions, so all the Troopers try their best to steer clear of him. The squadrons are much larger and split up according to battleprep scores, which means that Nines (who had the second highest scores after Eight-Seven) is in one unit and Slip and Zeroes are in another. Their squadron is made up of the First Order's misfits, the ones with the low scores and awkward demeanors, the ones who don't quite fit the mold.

And it is those people with whom Slip and Zeroes have decided to share the story of Finn.

The idea had been pretty spontaneous, if he's being honest. One second he and Zeroes were telling the others about where they'd previously been stationed, and the next second a hush fell over the room because a young Trooper had asked if they'd known FN-2187. No one had threatened to report the Trooper for reconditioning or changed the subject; they'd all just stared at him and Zeroes expectantly. After a moment, Zeroes had nodded, and then Slip (in a moment of pure adrenaline) offered to tell all the Troopers present the story of FN-2187 in three days time during dormancy hours. All of them had agreed.

And now here he is, standing slack-jawed in a room packed to the corners with more Troopers than he can count, some of whom aren't even from their squadron. Zeroes seems to notice this as well and says under his breath to Slip, "Where the helmet did they all come from?"

"I...I don't know." Slip's mouth tastes like copper and he feels like he's going to throw up. He's never spoken in front of this many people before and his brain is screaming at him to cancel the meeting before he royally screws up. "I guess the news spread."

"Hopefully not into the wrong hands."

Slip nods, hoping with all his might that that's true. The last thing they need is for this to be stifled before it can even begin. He turns to face the room, looking out at Troopers of all ages and races and genders, aliens and human, young and old. It's incredible that so many have come, and he vows to not disappoint them. "Uh. Hi." A bead of sweat forms over his upper lip. "My name's FN-2003. Y-you can call me Slip. And I used to be stationed on—on Starkiller Base."

"It blew up," pipes up one of the littler ones here. She's not from his squadron but he's seen her around in the mess hall and on sanitation duty. Her designation is JN-0211, and she likes to be called Elevens, or Levs for short. "How are you here?"

"Clearly he escaped, buckethead," says another. This one actually is from his squadron. Slip can't remember his designation but knows that he goes by Jate. He looks to be around sixteen or seventeen rotations, and he's short and skinny with royal blue scales around his eyes that clash against the deep brown of his skin. His tone suggests that he and Levs are good friends; he probably invited her to the meeting. "Listen up and save your questions."

Zeroes chooses to answer Levs's question. "Captain Phasma was stuck in…uh, in a precarious situation." Even if Captain Phasma isn't on the ship, Slip still kind of believes she'll kill him where he stands if he tells anyone what had really happened, so he doesn't blame Zeroes for keeping his mouth shut. "And Slip here," Slip gives a small wave, "and me and another soldier named Nines helped her out of it. We were nearest to the escape pods and got away before the base and planet blew up."

Levs nods, and Jate does too.

"Anyway," Slip says. "I used to be in a unit of four. Me, Zeroes, Nines, and FN-2187." He waits for them to hiss or flinch or stubbornly insist that Finn was a Resistance plant who betrayed the First Order, but they're silent. Watching him. Waiting. "FN-2187 was given a mission by Captain Phasma to infiltrate the Resistance and bring it down from the inside. To do this, he pretended to defect and escaped the base overnight. He kept in touch with Captain Phasma through a wristband that acted as a communications device, saying that he'd bring the First Order a map that led to Luke Skywalker."

The room is quiet. Even Zeroes stays silent. This is longest Slip has gone without stuttering during a speech and he intends to keep going.

"But then he got in touch with Captain Phasma and said he wouldn't do it anymore. Said the First Order was cruel and he wouldn't be a part of it anymore. And that led to a chase across the galaxy, and when his friend—a girl from Jakku—was taken by Kylo Ren," this earns a few eye rolls and snorts because everyone hates Kylo Ren, "FN-2187 broke into Starkiller Base with the help of Han Solo and got her out, and he and the girl escaped before the planet blew up."

"So," ventures another Trooper that Slip vaguely recognizes, "he wasn't a Resistance plant?"

"No. He was as much of a Trooper as you and me. And he defected. He left." Slip swallows hard. "I went to see the girl in secret when she was being held on base. She told me that FN-2187 goes by another name now. Finn."

That sends a rumble through the crowd. A name. FN-2187 had named himself. Slip was just as surprised by this news when the girl had told him, so he waits until all the murmurs have died down.

"I know what you've been told to believe. But trust what I've seen. What I've heard. I was in his unit. I've known him since I was fourteen rotations old. FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper. He wasn't a mole. He was one of us and he left the First Order—the only home he ever had—because he knew it was the right thing to do." Slip looks at Zeroes, at Levs and Jate, at everyone. This is the moment that will make it or break it. "And if he could do it, why can't we?"

* * *

 _Thanks so much for your lovely response on the last chapter; I'm really glad that you guys are enjoying the fic so far!_

 _Stay tuned for Chapter III, in which Kylo Ren conferences with Supreme Leader Snoke, Leia authorizes a rescue mission, and Finn and Rey's Jedi training begins._

 _Also, if anyone was wondering, my fancasts for the Stormtroopers are Ki Hong Lee as Slip, Lakeith Stanfield as Zeroes, and Dacre Montgomery as Nines (whom we have definitely not seen the last of yet)._


	3. Chapter III

The scavenger girl had bested him.

His rage threatens to make him shake every time he thinks about it. He, a Knight of Ren, the apprentice of Supreme Leader Snoke, had been defeated in a lightsaber battle by a scavenger from the most backwater planets in the Western Reaches. She had stolen his grandfather's lightsaber from him, the rightful heir to the Skywalker bloodline. And she had wounded him.

His hand goes briefly to his helmet, to the spot where the scar now mars his face. And it is no small scar either; it begins at his hairline and continues in a jagged line down his right cheek. In the infirmary, the First Order medics had offered to heal the wound completely, but he had refused. He needs it as a reminder of his failure, a reminder that next time he will not let the scavenger girl or the former Trooper get the better of him.

The elevator doors open, and he steps forward into the chambers of Supreme Leader Snoke. The room is decorated in the same manner as the other First Order warships, all dark and steel, and the only light comes from a window behind the Supreme Leader's blood-red throne, which is flanked by two Knights of Ren. He can feel the guards staring at him but ignores them as he kneels, keeping his eyes on the man before him.

"The mighty Kylo Ren." Snoke's voice contains no warmth. "When I found you, I saw what all masters live to see. Raw, untamed power…and the potential of your bloodline. I assumed you would rise to my expectations. Become a new Vader." His eyes (a sharp blue) narrow as he leans forward in his seat. "Now I see…I was mistaken."

His heart constricts. _Mistaken?_ "I've given everything I have to you, Master. To the Dark Side—"

Snoke suddenly stands up, and all the air vanishes from the room. The light from the window catches against the scars on Snoke's face—the scars that he had sustained in his battle against Luke Skywalker so many years ago—and Kylo Ren swallows hard. "Everything? I think not."

"I killed Han Solo. When the moment came I didn't hesitate—"

"And what came after?" Snoke's voice goes low and dangerous and echoes around the chambers, and the Knights of Ren at his side stiffen. "The deed split your spirit to the bone. You were bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber—and by a former Stormtrooper as well! You _failed._ " Snoke steps closer, his dark robes billowing around him. "Skywalker lives. And as long as Skywalker lives, as long as the Resistance prevails, hope does as well. I thought you would be the one to snuff it out, but as I said…I was mistaken."

Part of him—the weak part, the part of Ben Solo he has not yet been able to destroy—wants to look away, but he grits his teeth and keeps his head up. "Master," he says, feeling as though he has purged these words from the depths of his soul, "I take full responsibility for—"

Snoke raises a single hand, and Kylo Ren's words slam into each other and stop cold. "Your apologies are of no use to me," he says coldly. "We must now plan for the future if the next battle is to begin in our favor." Kylo Ren nods tightly, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, and Snoke continues. "We have crippled the New Republic, yet the Resistance lives on."

"Let me destroy them." His anger boils the blood that is thrumming in his veins, and he forgets that it is not his turn to speak. "General Hux told me he tracked the location of the main base to the Ileenium System—let me go there, Master, and I will bring the full power of the First Order with me—"

"Silence." The word comes out softly, barely audible, but deadly all the same. "You know as well as I do that the Resistance cannot be obliterated as easily as Starkiller Base. What we must do now is prevent their cause from shining so brightly."

That makes him look up. _Does he mean…_ "The Last Resort."

Snoke inclines his head. "If implemented properly, victory may yet be ours." His eyes bore into Kylo Ren's even through the helmet, and the temperature in the room seems to drop twenty degrees. "Provided you do not fail me again."

* * *

In the split second that it takes for Mitaka's admission to register, the side room falls into chaos. Oddy and L'ulo immediate start debating about whether Mitaka's telling the truth about Pava or not. Karé's legs give out from under her and she has to be helped to a chair by Admiral Ackbar and Colonel Brance. Lieutenant Connix is simultaneously shuffling through numerous holocharts and trying to get the rest of high command on the comms so they can be filled in on this new development. And Poe—he doesn't know what to think. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins and blood is pounding a staccato against his brain, making him feel like he just did the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even notice General Organa reentering the room until she calls for quiet.

"General," Poe says, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. Through the one-way mirror he can see Mitaka straining in his chair and trying to get comfortable, but the former First Order officer is quiet now that he's said all that needs to be said. "Is what he said true? About Pava being alive?"

General Organa sighs, and for a moment she looks as though she has aged fifty years in a single breath. But then her shoulders straighten and her eyes (as sharp as ever) meet his, and she answers, "It's hard to say. I was never as good as sensing truth through the Force as Luke was. But considering the wealth of information he shared, I'm inclined to believe that he was telling the truth about Captain Pava as well."

"It could be a trap, General," Admiral Ackbar warns, as has become his trademark over the past several years. Major Ematt, who's still half-kneeling beside Karé's chair, rolls his eyes. "Then again, if the information he shared with you was valid…" He turns to Lieutenant Connix, who answers at once.

"It does seem in line with what we've already gleaned from Finn and our own intelligence officers." She pulls up a holochart, enlarging it so that the facts and figures are visible to the members of high command long enough for them to nod in approval before she minimizes it and puts it away. "Not to mention it's in his own best interest to tell us the truth."

Poe's gaze returns to room on the other side of the one-way mirror, where Mitaka is now staring at his shoes. He doesn't have the bearing of a man who's manipulated General Organa and the Resistance; instead, he looks like a man whose sole interest is self-preservation, and would spill any information if it meant he would survive. _He must be telling the truth. He's got to be._

General Organa is speaking again, and he makes an effort to tune in. "Admiral, Colonel, move Mitaka to an isolated cell, remove his restraints and give him something to eat and drink. Lieutenant Connix, get the interim chancellor on the comms. Fill her in and tell her I'll be there shortly. Major Ematt, you fill in the rest of high command; we'll meet in the conference room in an hour to continue discussing our next steps." The officers in question file out of the room, leaving Poe, Oddy, L'ulo, and Karé alone with General Organa.

Poe hopes that someone has thought to tell Snap about this new development—provided he's still alive, anyway. Something in his eyes must give his thoughts away, because General Organa says gently, "I thought you all should know, Captain Wexley made it through surgery. Dr. Kalonia says he'll be laid up for a few days, but he should be fine in the long run."

Poe lets out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. Oddy and L'ulo exchange relieved sighs of their own, and Karé wipes away more tears. "Good. That's—that's good." He can feel the exhaustion in his tone, clinging to his very soul, but forces it aside so they can get to the heart of the matter. "So now that Pava's alive, what do we do from here?"

"We rescue her, obviously." Karé's glare is incredulous, like she's surprised Poe even had to ask. "I don't know about the rest of you but I'm not leaving Jess in that hellhole any second longer than I have to." Her voice breaks, and Poe is suddenly reminded of how she had cried after Pava's disappearance, lamenting that now she'd never get to tell Pava how she felt about her. "We can't leave her there."

"No one's suggesting we leave her," General Organa says, not unkindly. "Though rescuing her will be complicated. The _Finalizer_ is one of the more heavily guarded bases in the First Order—our intel claims the base outnumbers us in weapons and manpower at least two to one. A rescue mission will be unbelievably dangerous—"

"I'll do it." For the second time in less than an hour everyone in the room turns to look at him, each person wearing a more disbelieving expression than the last. He can feel his own face going red but is determined to share his plan anyway. "I'll go to the _Finalizer_ and rescue Pava, General."

Karé nods, looking as though she is trying very hard to be brave. "Me too, General."

"No, I—" He fights the urge to curse. "I meant…I think that I can handle it alone. You said it yourself, General. The base is heavily guarded and I think that the less people we risk on this mission the better."

General Organa raises her eyebrows, and he gets the impression that she can see right through him. Any lesser commanding officer would have written him off as another cocky flyboy, but his motivations don't have anything to do with personal glory. If this mission is as dangerous as General Organa had implied, then he can't risk the lives of his remaining teammates. Not when Pava had been kidnapped on the mission he was supposed to go on, or Snap, whose injury could have been prevented if Poe had been more conscientious. Or even Markus Dinoa, who had sacrificed himself to save Poe on Starkiller Base. He can't lose Karé and Oddy and L'ulo too.

"You know," General Organa says. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of my brother." A wry smile twists her lips. "Luke always insisted on going headfirst into danger if it meant that his friends and family would be safe. But he later learned that any opportunity can present risks—no matter how much you prepare for it—and it's often better to face danger with your friends at your side rather than alone."

"Damn straight," Karé says primly, which makes Oddy and L'ulo laugh. She reaches forward, clasping his hand in hers tightly. "We're in this together, Poe. Together or not at all."

It takes several seconds for the lump in his throat to subside, and he squeezes Karé's hand back. Despite his worry for his friends' safety, he's glad that he will not have to face this challenge alone. "Right," he says with a nod. "General Organa, permission to assemble a squad for the rescue mission of Jessika Pava?"

"Permission granted," says General Organa, the barest twinkle in her eye. "Get your squad ready, Commander Dameron. You'll leave in two days."

"Thank you, ma'am." His mind is already whirring at top speed, picking and choosing the best candidates. They're going to have to keep their squad small otherwise they'll risk getting caught, but him and Karé (who will disembowel him if she's left out of this mission) and a gunner and a mechanic should be enough. Maybe they can pull someone from Cobalt Squadron since Snap and Finn are out of commission—

"And Poe?"

His head snaps up. "Yes, General?"

"May the Force be with you."

* * *

Dawn rises early the next morning, bringing with it a pale yellow sun and his and Rey's first lesson in the ways of the Force. Skywalker escorts them from the Millennium Falcon to the clearing from yesterday, where tiny aliens draped in white sweep the ruins, and then up a mountain. By the time they're finally done walking, Finn's back is aching and even Rey is leaning on her ever-present staff, but Skywalker doesn't even look out of breath. _He probably does this kind of stuff every day. Then again, so would I if I had nothing to do on this island but talk to the caretakers and shoo those damn birds away._

"What do you know about the Force?"

Finn startles at the question. Skywalker's back is to the sea below as he faces both of them, but he doesn't know who the question had been aimed at. "It's, uh…it's a power that the Jedi have. It makes them fight better, and, uh…"

"And control people," Rey adds, likely drawing inspiration from the Jedi mind trick she'd pulled on her Stormtrooper guard on Starkiller Base. "And…make things float."

Skywalker snorts. "True," he says dryly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "In a broad sense, that is what the Force can help you accomplish. But the Force itself—now there's a far more complicated beast. Sit down. Close your eyes."

They sit. Rey's eyes are shut and her back is ramrod straight, but some of the tension eases out of her muscles when Finn reaches over and squeezes her hand reassuringly. Skywalker raises an eyebrow at Finn, who shuts his eyes as well.

"My master taught me that the Force is an energy field created by all living things. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. You can feel it around you, between you and me, the sky above and the sea below. Reach out. Can you feel it?"

Finn's not sure what he's supposed to be reaching out for—or what he's supposed to be feeling, as a matter of fact—so he casts his mind back to Takodana, where he'd felt the destruction of the Hosnian System from thousands of miles away. He summons his fear and confusion and that strange feeling of _connection_ , and suddenly feels something at his fingertips. Something not quite liquid or solid, but there all the same. "Yes," he says.

He assumes that Rey has nodded beside him, because Skywalker says, "Good. Now what do you see?"

He concentrates harder. "The island." It's like peering through a fine mist, and he can barely make out the ghosts in the fog. "Life and death, and decay…which feeds new life."

"Warmth," says Rey from beside him. He can picture her clearly in his mind's eye: eyes shut, hair escaping from its buns and fluttering in the wind, hands resting on her knees. He wonders what memory she had called to mind when asked to think of the Force. "And cold. Peace and violence."

"Good." Skywalker's voice comes from far away. "And between it all?"

This time he and Rey speak in unison. "Balance."

"Exactly," Skywalker says, and Finn takes that as his cue to open his eyes again. Everything seems brighter now, sharper and clearer than it had been just a few moments earlier. "Some may be able to harness it better than others, but the Force belongs to everyone. To say that it only belongs to the Jedi is vanity. And a true victory does not mean the Light must triumph over the Dark, or that the Dark must triumph over the Light. For there to be peace, there must be balance—balance like what you two just felt."

"I feel something else," Rey murmurs. Her eyes are still shut and her body language is different—still stiff but somehow relaxed at the same time, as if she is halfway between reality and a dream. "There's something beneath the island, something cold. It's calling to me."

Alarmed, Finn scrambles to his feet and kneels in front of Rey. "Rey, what're you talking about?"

"The darkness," she whispers. The ground feels unsteady beneath him, but when he looks down he realizes that it's not due to fear: the ground is literally trembling, and flakes of rock and pebbles hover around him and Rey. "Can't you feel it?"

"Resist it, Rey." Suddenly Skywalker is by their side, and his very presence seems to make the air around them buzz with something indescribable but undeniably powerful. His voice is urgent but his eyes cannot conceal his fright. "Don't listen to the darkness, Rey. Resist it!"

"I can't." Her voice is trembling, and the ground beneath her begins to crack. More pebbles start hovering, and is it Finn's imagination or are they much sharper than before? "It's strong; it's calling me—"

Before Finn can stop himself, he grabs Rey's hands in his and holds tight, like she is an anchor holding him down to the earth. His vision goes gray, and the hair on his arms stands on end from the sudden cold that dampens his soul and bones, but he refuses to let go. "Don't let the darkness win, Rey," he says, and he can't be sure if she can hear him or not but he refuses to let her suffer alone. "You're stronger than this. You're a survivor. You have to fight it, Rey." His voice breaks. "Don't go where I can't follow."

Suddenly Rey's eyes shoot open, and Finn falls backward as though shoved by a gust of wind. The pebbles hovering around her drop back to the ground, and Finn is plunged back into the warmth of the morning, hot enough in comparison to the bone-chilling cold of earlier that he hisses through his teeth. When he looks up again, Rey is staring at him in horror. "Finn?"

"Rey." He's unable to disguise his relief, and it's a testament to how shaken the both of them are that she doesn't protest when he pulls her into a hug. "Are you alright?" He moves back, his hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

"I…I don't know. There was…there was a voice calling to me, coming from beneath the island. It was trying to tell me something."

"It offered you something you needed." Both of them turn to Skywalker, whose face has drained of color all but literally, as though he had been cut open and his veins emptied, leaving him bloodless white under his tan. "And…and you managed to stop yourself?"

"I did," Rey says quietly. "I—I was lost, but then I heard Finn's voice, and somehow…I was able to fight the darkness off again."

"Again?"

"I felt something similar when I fought Kylo Ren," Rey admits, and Finn's eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't told him that. "I won our fight. I wanted to strike him down, make him pay, and then I heard this…this voice in my head, trying to persuade me that killing him would make me more powerful than I could ever imagine. But I knew that wasn't right, and I didn't listen." She ducks her head. "And I went back to Finn."

He has no idea what to say in response to that; all he's capable of doing is staring slack-jawed like an idiot. Skywalker seems to be the same boat. "I've seen this kind of raw strength only once before," he says, and who exactly he'd seen it in seems to go without saying. "It didn't scare me then, but now…"

Finn's throat is suddenly dry. "So what happens next?" Considering Skywalker's past attempts at teaching people the ways of the Force, he wouldn't blame the older man if he cancelled their lessons now. "Are you—will you keep teaching us?"

Skywalker has gone still, so still that Finn worries that he had missed the question completely, but then he gives a stiff nod. "Yes." He sounds as though he is trying very hard to mask his terror, but he straightens his shoulders and nods once more. "I understand now why Leia sent you here. Both of you. Your strength and compassion make you the balance that the Force so desperately needs." He swallows hard. "I will teach you. I'll not fail you like I did Kylo Ren."

For a moment, there is nothing but the waves crashing onto the shore far below them. Finn breaks the silence first. "You did everything you could to help him, Master Skywalker," he says. "But there's always a choice. Believe me, I know. Him choosing the First Order and the Dark Side over the Light had nothing to do with you."

"Finn's right," Rey says. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she raises her head. Her determination and strength shine through despite the terror of a few moments ago, and she looks ready to take on the First Order single-handedly. "You didn't fail him, Master Skywalker. He failed you." She meets Skywalker's gaze evenly, and Finn would have had to be blind to miss the conviction in her next statement. "We won't."

* * *

 _I'm so sorry for the delay, you guys — writer's block, sub-arctic temperatures, and the start of term make for a truly deadly combination. Barring any more complications, we should be back to our regular updating schedule for the next chapter._

 _Stay tuned for Chapter IV, in which Finn and Rey experience visions of the past, Slip and Zeroes search through their files, and two sisters have a frank discussion as the squad for Poe's rescue mission is assembled._


	4. Chapter IV

_Since the writing for Rose Tico was all over the place in canon and she didn't have a consistent character arc, I've chosen to scrap canon for this fic and do a near-complete redesign of Rose (and Paige, who we unfortunately lost way too soon and never learned much about). Rose and Paige's new backstories will be revealed as the story continues, so be sure to stick around for that._

 _But enough talk for now. On with the show!_

* * *

In the wake of his and Zeroes's speech to the other Stormtroopers, Slip feels as though he's carrying some sort of talisman in his chest, a glowing secret that helps him get through combat training and battlepreps and keeps him steady during the Morning Speeches. The timing of their meetings are unpredictable—sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes in the middle of the night—but Zeroes had claimed that having irregular meetings will make it harder for the higher-ups to suspect something is wrong, so they continue in that vein. More and more Stormtroopers drop by, each one with questions and stories and a resounding desire to rebel like FN-2187 had.

The exact details of their planned rebellion are a little murky. Right now he and Zeroes are focusing on drumming up support from within the ranks and searching for other Troopers to help them take charge of this group of burgeoning rebels. They've got a few so far. BB-2199, a.k.a Bebe, has served on the _Finalizer_ the longest and has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of everyone on base. Jate (JA-8055) and Levs (JN-0211) might be young but they're hard workers; Levs is a welcome ray of sunshine that can settle any dispute with a smile, and Jate doesn't talk much but when he does, people listen. Now that he and Zeroes aren't alone in this scheme, Slip's got a pretty good feeling about all this. He just hopes it's not misplaced.

Managing the sparks of a Stormtrooper rebellion doesn't exempt him from his duties, but his exhaustion has caused his battleprep scores to dip even further. As a result, General Kilson summons him to his office after the Morning Speech and berates him thoroughly before shunting him to file duty with Zeroes for the day. Slip's just grateful that he won't have to spend another combat training session getting pummeled by Nines, who's using every opportunity to prove that he's just as much of a model Stormtrooper as Finn had been, if not better.

The files room is damp and dusty, with stacks of holofiles scattered across the desks and the shelves and the floor in desperate need of reorganizing. Zeroes's job is to find the necessary files and hand them to Slip, who organizes them by the serial number of the mission or person described. It's tedious, boring work, but they fall into a steady rhythm, and the silence is only broken by the occasional sniff or question.

Or, in this case, Zeroes laughing out loud.

Slip glances over in surprise. "What's up?"

"Did you know that General Hux's name isn't Armitage?" Zeroes holds up a holofile with General Hux's name on the side. "Apparently it's Elan Bartram, but he legally changed it after joining the Academy. Bet he just wanted to sound more intimidating or something."

Slip is more focused on the other pieces of the puzzle to fully appreciate the humor in this situation. "Are you looking through the high-command files?" he asks, horrified. "We're not supposed to be doing that!"

"We're not supposed to be doing a lot of things," Zeroes retorts. Any comment Slip wants to make would just be blatantly hypocritical, so he shrugs as if to say _fair enough_ and keeps his mouth shut. "Anyway. Aren't you the least bit curious about the information in here?"

Slip's eyes go to the already-organized files in the back of the room, the ones not pertaining to the higher-ups or inventory or any upcoming missions. Those are the Stormtrooper files, organized by squadron. A subtle twitch in Zeroes's jaw tells Slip that they're thinking the same thing, and less than a second later they're in the back of the room, examining the holofiles with the intensity of a CO doing quarters inspections.

"Got it!" Slip grabs a stack of holofiles off the shelf and spreads them out on a nearby table. "These are our files. Zeta Squadron." The files of Delta Squadron, where Nines is assigned, are further up the shelf, but Slip doesn't care much about their former squadmate. Not when the possibility of finding out information on his past is in the palm of his hand. "FN-2000, FN-2003, JA-8055, BB-2199—we're all here."

They both look down at the holofiles, this time like they're a bomb waiting to go off. Slip's glad that he and Zeroes are alone with this discovery. If word had got out amongst the insurgent Troopers that they could find out information about their past, a riot might have started then and there. But now it's just the two of them with a stack of holofiles that could change everything.

"Well." Zeroes picks up one of the holofiles, the one marked _FN-2000_ in careful print. That's his. After a moment of just holding it, Zeroes releases a breathy laugh and turns to Slip. "Hey. Uh, can you read mine for me?"

Slip understands instantly. The nerves must be overwhelming enough that Zeroes can't make himself read about his past. He feels the same way. "Yeah. And can you read mine for me?"

Zeroes nods, and they exchange holofiles. After another nod from Zeroes, Slip clicks the file open and starts reading out loud. "Stormtrooper FN-2000. Birthdate is 9 ABY. Currently serving on the _Finalizer._ " His eyes widen and he lets out a low whistle. "Oh, helmet."

"What?" Zeroes's voice is perfectly calm but his grip tightens on Slip's file. "What does it say?"

"Your mother's name is Lithia Turner and your father's name is Henry Kilson."

That takes Zeroes aback, and he moves over to see the file for himself. "Henry Kilson?" he repeats, sounding about as stunned as Slip feels. "As in General Kilson?"

Slip nods even though he doesn't have to; they both know. They also both know that General Kilson's wife's name is Callimina, not Lithia. "Well," he says weakly. "That's something."

Zeroes makes a noise of agreement. "That's something, alright. I'm apparently the bastard son of the biggest hardass in the First Order." Kilson probably saw no issue with taking the son of one of his mistresses and giving him up to the Stormtrooper program. What an asshole. Slip doesn't dare voice his opinion about the high possibility of Zeroes having a bunch of siblings via Kilson running around the First Order, not if he wants to keep whatever semblance of a friendship they have. "Does it say what my, uh, original name was?"

Slip's eyes return to the file in his hands. "Uh, yeah. It was Liddy. Liddy Kilson." He bites his lip as a very dangerous thought comes to mind. "Do you—do you want me to call you that?"

Zeroes's brows furrow in thought. Slip tries to associate the name Liddy Kilson with the man next to him but comes up short. "Think I'll stick with Zeroes," he finally answers. "I've had it long enough; might as well keep it. And I definitely don't want Kilson's name anywhere near mine."

"That's understandable." Slip is surprised when his muttered statement gets a laugh. Then again, he's constantly surprised that the two of them can interact without snapping at each other at all. Now that Zeroes isn't hanging out with Nines and Eight-Seven (no, _Finn_ , with all the time he goes around talking about Finn the least Slip could do is remember his former squadmate's new name) is gone, they've gotten closer and Slip finds that he enjoys their newfound camaraderie.

"Is there anything else in there?"

"Nah, nothing but battleprep scores and the like, but you were apparently born on Corellia. Then you got inducted when you were a rotation old." Slip hands Zeroes the file so he can read it for himself. He watches his friend scowl at the picture of Henry Kilson, watches his face soften as he reads his mother's name. Then, when it's been almost a minute, Slip ventures, "Could you—"

"Oh! Yeah, sure. Sure." Zeroes opens Slip's holofile and stares at it like he's deciphering advanced math equations. "Stormtrooper FN-2003. Currently serving on the _Finalizer_. Born on Hosnian Prime in 10 ABY." That's a bit awkward considering the planet (and the entire Hosnian System) just got destroyed by Starkiller Base. "Parents were Uriah and Satomi Maisy. Birth name was Thomas."

"Thomas," he repeats, savoring it. That actually sounds nice. Not nice enough to replace the nickname he's worn for the last several rotations, but nice. And he likes the surname Maisy. "What if I kept the last name but not the first name?"

"Slip Maisy has a nice ring to it," Zeroes concedes. "Though…" His voice trails off, and the unspoken _though it's too bad you won't be able to go by it as long as you're a Trooper_ is left unsaid _._ "Though I don't think General Kilson or Captain Phasma would think the same."

Speaking of which… "Did you see her file with the others?"

"No. Only one I saw was General Hux's. Maybe she actually is a test-tube Trooper." Zeroes doesn't sound like he believes himself. Being of such a high rank, her file is likely on Supreme Leader Snoke's personal ship, the _Supremacy_. Finn's probably got incinerated. "What now?"

Slip kind of wants to read the other files but knows that it's none of his business. "We should put these back," he says. It pains him to say it, but there's no way they can take the files out of this room without anyone noticing. Not to mention that it'll be suspicious if every Trooper in Zeta Squadron suddenly puts in a request to be transferred to file duty. And he certainly doesn't want Nines to know about any of this. "All of these should get put back before anyone notices they're gone."

* * *

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rose sits up so fast that she hits her head hard on the calcinator she's supposed to be rewiring. She slides out from beneath the set of pipes and machinery with a wince, not at all surprised to see her older sister standing in the doorway with a look that promises the fury of a thousand suns. "My job?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Paige snaps, striding across the room and stopping right in front of Rose. She's dressed in full uniform—sans the bomber cap that Rose had bought her several months ago—and looks every inch the perfect Resistance soldier. Probably just got done running drills with Cobalt Squadron. "What's this I hear from Kaydel about you signing up for Commander Dameron's mission?"

Damn. Rose gets to her feet and offers up her most winning smile, which isn't at all winning since she's covered in grease and grime and grit. "I heard Colonel Kanan saying that they needed a mechanic, so I told her I was available and she signed me up." Actually, Rose had begged Colonel Kanan for the chance after she'd voiced the offer to an entire room full of mechanics, but Paige doesn't need to know that. So she shrugs. "No big deal."

Paige's jaw drops. "No big deal?" she repeats incredulously. "The mission is to rescue one of our own from inside a heavily-armed First Order base! It's crazy dangerous; it's practically a suicide mission!"

"Then why did you sign up?"

Her face goes red. _Score one for Rose Tico._ "Because they needed a gunner since Captain Wexley's still in the infirmary and Finn is still on his mission from General Organa, so they asked me and I said yes. But—" She holds up her hand as if to stop Rose's comeback in its tracks. "But I've been in the Resistance for years. I've been trained for missions like this. You haven't."

"That doesn't make me any less of an experienced mechanic," Rose argues, even though she knows Paige is right. Doing tune-ups and engine rebuilds in her father's garage since the age of seven isn't the same thing as learning to fix ships while under heavy fire. But she's not about to back down. "I need to do this, Paige. I have to."

"You've only been here for a week, Rose, what could you possibly have to prove?"

"That I'm not someone to be pitied, alright?" Tears come to her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that week, and she swipes them away with her wrist. "Everywhere I go, it's just been these—these pitying looks and everyone talks about me behind my back and when they do talk to me they just treat me like I'm about to shatter and…" She lets out a shuddering breath. "I need to prove my worth so people will stop treating me like I'm the Resistance's charity case."

All the anger and worry seems to leave Paige at once. "I get it, Rose," she says softly. "Really, I do. And you're an excellent mechanic, but this mission is so dangerous. I've already lost Mama and Papa…" A tear trickles down her cheek, and she pulls Rose into a tight hug. "I couldn't bear to lose you too."

Rose hiccoughs, wiping away the rest of her tears as she pulls away from their hug. "You're not going to lose me," she promises. "Besides, if we're both on this mission, then there's no way it can fail, right?"

That makes Paige laugh, and she taps her knuckles against Rose's chin the same way she did when they were little. "Right," she says with a firm nod. "But the next time you want to sign up for a crazy mission like this, tell me first, okay? I don't want to get a heart attack every time I talk to Kaydel."

Rose can't help but smirk, because this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. "Like you don't already get a heart attack every time you look at her, let alone talk to her."

Paige blushes up to the roots of her hair. "We're just friends," she mumbles, but it's so blatantly unconvincing that Rose just rolls her eyes.

"Uh huh." Rose laughs and dodges Paige's playful attempt to punch her in the shoulder. "Not for lack of trying on your end, right?"

"Oh, shut up."

Rose doesn't even try not to smile.

* * *

Although Finn has spent his entire life training under a variety of teachers (well, if he counts his old commanding officers and combat instruction directors as teachers, which he does) he's never had a teacher quite like Luke Skywalker before. Skywalker works him and Rey hard, yes, but he's patient and level-headed and always gives them a kind word or encouraging smile when they need it the most. Finn's learned so much already, and if this keeps up, he and Rey will return to the Resistance and help take down the First Order in no time.

Three days after arriving on Ahch-To, Skywalker decides that since they've both sufficiently demonstrated that they understand the Force, it's time for their second lesson. "Back in the days of the Old Republic," he says, "the Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments: romantic, platonic, familial. They believed that attachments like those would make you weak, or would lead to jealousy and greed. And, if your loved one was killed, a path straight to the Dark Side."

Finn glances over at Rey almost automatically, whose eyes have flickered over to him as well. He loves Rey more than he's ever loved anyone before, and if that makes him 'weak' in the eyes of the old Jedi Order, then to hell with them. "Seems a bit archaic." He manages to keep his voice light, even if his mind is now consumed with the other half of Skywalker's sentence. If Rey was injured—or killed, Force forbid—would that send him on a downward spiral to the Dark Side?

He's not sure, and that scares him more than anything.

"I agree," Skywalker says, and Finn's head snaps up. "I believe that the Jedi should not be strangers to compassion, especially since they prided themselves on believing that all lives were precious. Having attachments isn't a weakness. It's a strength." He trails off, and Finn wonders if he's thinking of Solo or General Organa. Or his long-dead wife and child. "And the attachment you feel for one another—I believe that it will make you both great Jedi."

Rey swallows hard. "So what does that mean?"

"Well…" And now Skywalker smiles slightly. "You've proven to me that you understand the Force, that you can reach out and feel it around you. If your attachment to one another is as strong as I suspect, I want to see if you can find each other in the Force."

Finn blinks. "Come again?"

What this means, apparently, is that Finn and Rey are sent to separate sides of the island—Rey remains in the valley with Skywalker, and Finn goes down to the Millennium Falcon—and are told to reach out to the Force and see if they can find each other there. If they can do that, then it's proof to Skywalker that they've developed a Force bond with each other. Rey's heard of Force bonds before, and she tells Finn that they allow the communication of feelings, thoughts, and images across distances and grant greater coordination in battle. Essentially, if it works, they'll be more prepared to face down the First Order than ever.

Finn sits outside the Millennium Falcon, eyes closed. Just like earlier, he summons the fear and confusion and that strange sensation of connection he'd felt on Takodana, and in no time he can feel the Force flickering at his fingertips. Not liquid, not solid, but there all the same.

Then he feels stupid. Now what is he supposed to do? Wander the darkness of his own mind searching for Rey? Is he supposed to see her, or just hear her voice? He wishes Skywalker had explained this Force bond thing in more detail.

Just as he's about to call out Rey's name and see what happens, something hazy begins to form in the distance. The faintest, merest shadow of a person. And if he concentrates, he can hear someone speaking, but the words sound muffled and staticky."— _inn? Finn—y—hear—?"_

"Rey?" He steps forward—or, rather, the projection of his mind's consciousness steps forward, searching for the source of the sound, squinting at the shadow. "Rey, is that you?"

" _Finn!"_ Now the voice sounds relieved. The shadow has begun to crystallize into a person, and a very familiar one at that. Rey keeps fading in and out of his sight, but he can see her. And from the way she's staring at him, they must be able to see each other. " _Can you see me?"_

"Yeah. I can see you." He laughs out loud. "Does this mean it worked?"

" _I think so, but—"_ Suddenly Rey's voice cuts off, and although her form is about as substantial as a wisp of smoke he can see the fear in her eyes as clear as day. She disappears and reappears so quickly it's like someone is flicking a light switch on and off in his head. Is their connection breaking? What's happening? " _I see—it's—Finn? I—"_

"Rey? I'm here—what is it, what do you see?" He whirls around, ready to fight off whatever apparition has so terrified the living daylights out of Rey, but an image in the distance makes his heart freeze in his chest.

In the distance is an image the size of a large holoscreen, and it's the only solid, colorful thing in the darkness around him. Finn moves closer, his heart hammering against his ribs, unable to spare a fleeting thought of worry as Rey flickers out and disappears for good. The image is of a crowded town square, filled with people in colorful robes fleeing in all directions. Strange, yet somehow familiar. And he has no idea why.

"I don't understand what this means," he whispers to the image, which is now pulsing like a heartbeat. "Show me."

The image pulses once more, and then suddenly he's tilting forward; the image is widening, bringing with it a tornado that pitches him forward into a whirl of color and shadow. He wants to scream but has no mouth to do so—there is nothing around him but high-pitched noises and colors so bright that they burn his eyes and then—

He feels his feet hit solid ground and stands, shaking, as the blurry shapes around him coalesce and come into focus.

He's in an alleyway now, all dark bricks and grimy asphalt and overflowing garbage cans. Behind him he can hear people wailing and the crackle of blaster bolts flying through the air and the familiar sound of Stormtrooper-issued boots on pavement, but he cannot look away from the person at the back of the alley.

It's an older man in his forties, with brown skin and neatly-trimmed hair that's going gray at the temples. He's got a blaster strapped to his back and his jaw is set in determination, like he's willing to burn the world if it means getting what he wants. When he speaks, desperation colors every syllable. "The time is not to stay and fight, ma'am, you must run!"

"No!" Startled, Finn suddenly notices a woman next to the man. She looks to be around his age, with dark skin and even darker curly hair. She's clothed in a grey tunic and white pants and holds a bundle of blue blankets close to her chest. Her face is streaked with tears but her voice is firm. "I will not run like a frightened child, Wick! Not with Stormtroopers invading this city and certainly not when they have just killed my husband!"

"And what makes you think they will stop there?" Wick snaps, and the woman recoils like she's been slapped. "The New Republic is on its way with its own army to fight back the First Order, but until they successfully retake the city then you must get yourself and Samson to the safe house. The future of this planet depends on it."

There's a beat of tense silence, and then the woman gives a tight nod. "Alright," she says. She hitches the bundle of blankets further up, and it hits Finn like a lightsaber to the back that there's a baby in there. A baby boy who's looking up at his mother with frightened eyes. "We will get as many as we can to safety first, and then—"

"I'm afraid there will be no 'we' in this scenario." Wick pulls the blaster off his back and hands it to the woman. "Take it. You know how to use it far better than I."

"Wick—no, we must go together! I'll not leave you here!"

"I swore to give my life for you and your family if necessary, ma'am." Wick presses a fatherly kiss to the woman's forehead. "Though I promise that I have no intention of dying tonight."

"Wick—"

"Go on, Velle. I'll get as many people as I can to safety. I'll see you again soon."

After a moment of hesitation, Velle nods once more and runs out of the alley without looking back.

Then the scene flickers, and Finn finds himself in a throng of people that are pushing shoving and trying their best to run away from the Stormtroopers that seem to be around every corner. Velle cradles her baby against her chest with one hand and fires her blaster at approaching Troopers with the other. She presses herself flat against a statue of two Twi'leks holding hands, her chest heaving. "Hush now, hush now," she whispers to her baby, who is crying. "It'll be alright, my love, we'll be safe in a moment."

Finn's heart is hammering against his ribs even hard, and he bites the inside of his cheek so hard that he tastes blood. He knows where he's seen this woman before now. She'd been in that vision of his from Jakku, right before he'd heard that voice say _These are your first steps, Finn._ But she'd been on the ground then, and now—

Finn suddenly realizes what'll happen a second before it does, but that's not enough time to reach through space and time and stop the Stormtrooper across the square from shooting Velle in the shoulder.

Velle collapses like a marionette whose strings have been cut, the blaster falling out of her hand. The skin around her left shoulder is singed and bleeding, and the baby wails from the mess of blue blankets. It starts wailing even more as a Stormtrooper carelessly steps over Velle and plucks the baby from her arms, walking away without another glance.

"No!" Finn snaps out of whatever trance had frozen his muscles and takes off at a sprint after the Stormtrooper. Logically he knows that this is all in his mind and he can't do anything to help Velle or the baby, but he cannot stand by and do nothing. "No, stop it—hey!"

He's just reached the Stormtrooper when the world around him begins to whirl and everything goes dark. He feels himself falling, and, with a crash, lands spread-eagled on the ground, knocking the air out of him.

Once he's down gulping down lungfuls of air the way a man dying of thirst drinks water, he starts to calm down and takes stock of everything around him. He's back outside the Millennium Falcon, back on Ahch-To. It's still sunny outside, which means that he hasn't been gone for long—if he had even gone anywhere.

What had that been? Some strange side effect of his and Rey's Force bond? But he knows that's not right—and he also knows that whatever had made Rey so frightened is not at all what he'd seen. The Force must have shown them both strange visions, and he has no idea what to do with this information.

He tries to remember his vision, but it's all fading together into a jumble of color and noise. A man with a blaster. A woman crumpling to the ground. A statue and a plaza filled with people and Stormtroopers. A baby crying from a mess of thick blue blankets. And an all-encompassing sense of familiarity, but not just because he'd caught a glimpse of those events on Jakku. It's almost like he's _lived_ through that before.

It hadn't been a vision or a Force-dream. It had been a memory. And if his instincts are correct, that baby must have been him. And that means that the woman must have been his mother.

 _Kriffing hell._

* * *

 _Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future...the past. Old friends long gone._

Aggravating though Yoda had been, Luke still thinks of him and his lessons from time to time. How Yoda and Ben had tried to warn him of the Dark Side and the unknown consequences of him leaving Dagobah to find Leia and Han. How he hadn't listened and ended up with confusion, pain, and unwanted familial revelations. (Mara used to say that Yoda should have offered him a hand; intentional pun or not, that always made him laugh.)

But now that he's separated Finn and Rey to see if they've developed a Force bond like he suspects they have, this lesson of Yoda's comes to mind. He has no idea why until Rey, who's sitting near one of the stone structures not far from him, suddenly goes pale and starts shaking. At first he worries that the Dark Side is tempting her again, but then he realizes that she's having a Force-vision just like he had on Dagobah—though of the future or past, he doesn't know.

"Rey?" Saying the name that had belonged to his daughter still hurts after all these years, but he pushes through the pain and repeats himself. "Rey, can you hear me?"

She makes no indication that she can. He's not surprised; during his Force-vision he'd gone blind and deaf to the real world, and his sole focus had been on the ghosts before his eyes. But Force-visions tend to break down people's defense, and since Finn isn't around, she's even more vulnerable to an attack from the Dark Side.

He'd lost his nephew to the Dark Side. He will not lose this girl too.

He closes his eyes, channeling the memories of his tangible connection to his sister, to Han, to Mara, even to his father. He feels like he's in a glass box, but as he pushes and concentrates harder, cracks begin to form and light begins to seep through. A familiar sensation hums at his fingertips, and it feels like taking a deep breath after an eternity in a vacuum, like he's been asleep for decades and is only now returning to himself.

There are hints of a gray aura inches away from him. Rey's aura. He reaches toward the aura, intending to bring Rey out of her trance and back to herself. Back from the Dark Side.

He makes contact, and in the blink of an eye everything disappears.

* * *

She's on Jakku again, but she can't be. She _knows_ it can't be real because she's supposed to be on Ahch-To with Finn and Master Skywalker, and even the Force can't make someone teleport across thousands of miles of space. This must be a dream, or like that strange series of visions she'd glimpsed in Maz's basement on Takodana. But this time she can't move or speak or even breathe; all she can do is stare.

Unkar Plutt is there, still fat and disgusting and sneering like he thinks everyone in the galaxy is beneath him. But Rey's attention isn't on the alien; it's on the woman speaking to him. She's tall, with fair skin and reddish-auburn hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She looks hardened but weary, as though she's spent the last thousand years being chased across the galaxy, and she pulls her brown cloak tighter around her even though it's got to be stifling hot. "I'll be back soon," she says, and then she waves her hand. "You'll watch over her until then."

"I'll watch over her until then," Unkar Plutt echoes dutifully, which is strange because he's never that polite to anyone. Rey doubts it's genuine, but then the woman kneels down and her heart stops in her chest because that's _her_ , that's her younger self. And that means—that means—

"Mama, don't go," the younger Rey pleads. Her hair is in its usual three buns and she's wearing a simple cloth tunic with a brown belt wrapped around her waist. Rey remembers that outfit. She'd fashioned it into a face mask after it became too small. "Mama, don't leave me here, please—"

"Oh, sweetheart." The woman sounds on the verge of tears. "I won't be gone for long, alright? I promise. I need to tell your father where you are, and then we'll both come back for you once it's safe. Do you understand?"

Little Rey sniffles. "I understand."

"Good." The woman reaches out and hugs her like Rey is the only thing she's got left in the world. Once she pulls away, both she and Rey are crying. "Stay here, Rey. I'll come back for you. I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise."

And then it's a sight that has become all too familiar, that has haunted her nightmares for the last fourteen years—the starship taking off, Unkar Plutt's meaty hand on her wrist as she thrashes and screams for the ship to come back—but this time her head is swimming with so much information that she wants to scream.

 _Mama. I called that woman Mama, and she told me she'd come back for me, and that means…_

 _It means nothing._ Rey jumps at the sound of a familiar voice in her head, soft and coaxing and poisonously sweet. _But listen to me, and I will give you all the answers you desire._

All the answers she desires, but none of the answers she needs. This had to be the Dark Side trying to taunt her, trying to bait her into turning away from the Light. But she won't turn, not even for the promise of an explanation of what she just witnessed. She's not the type to be swayed by empty words and even emptier promises. She's a survivor. A warrior.

Just like Finn.

Rey's eyes shoot open, and the next several seconds are spent gasping for air and getting her bearings back. She's still on Ahch-To, still surrounded by those strange alien caretakers and those nuisance birds, and that means that Finn is nearby too, which is reassuring. The vision seems to have been engraved into her mind, and she can't unsee it.

Not that she wants to, anyway. She needs answers. That woman had been her mother, and she needs to know more. Why had she left her with Unkar Plutt? Had they been in danger? And why had she never come back?

Too late, she notices that Skywalker's eyes are on her, and she scrambles to her feet. "Master Skywalker," she says. Her fear is fading into a bundle of nervous excitement. Skywalker's wise; maybe he can help her figure out the details of that long-suppressed memory. "I don't know what happened—Finn and I were able to find each other in the Force, but then…then I had this strange vision."

Skywalker doesn't reply. In fact, he doesn't seem to be able to speak. He's gone pale, and his eyes are so wide that she can see the whites all around. The air around them seems to hum with tension—but no, it's not tension. This is something far more tangible, more powerful. The Force.

Rey gasps as the answer hits her. It's not just her connection to the Force that's making the air around them buzz; it's _Skywalker's._ He must have sensed her inner struggle with the Dark Side and had reconnected with the Force to try and help her. She has no idea how to feel about that—in fact, she's a little peeved that he hadn't believed in her ability to snap out of it herself—but she's mostly just excited that her childhood hero has the Force again. "You've reconnected to the Force! That's amazing!" Her excitement quickly gives way to curiosity and worry when Skywalker doesn't answer. "Are you alright?"

No response. For a moment she wonders if he's just having trouble adjusting after so long without the Force, but quickly dismisses the notion. There has to be another reason why he's staring at her like he's seen a ghost—

 _Oh kriff. Did he see my struggle with the Dark Side? Is that why he looks so afraid?_ Her heart clenches in her chest. _Or did he see my Force-vision? Did he know my mother?_

She looks up again just in time to see Skywalker get up and walk toward the nearest stone structure, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 _Dun dun dunnnnn… ;)_

 _Stay tuned for Chapter V, in which Luke reveals a long-kept secret, Rey reacts poorly, and Finn decides to track down his family._


	5. Chapter V

The door slamming shut behind Skywalker had surprised her—mostly because she hadn't expected him to just up and leave like that—but seconds later Rey finds herself storming into the stone hut right after him. Inside is a cot, a table, a few chairs, and a woefully inadequate-looking stove. One of the little alien caretakers who had been sweeping the floor in front of the fireplace picks up their broom and exits the room with a huff.

Skywalker is sitting at the table, his muscles taut and head bowed. Something is clearly wrong, and for a moment her sympathy for the older man supersedes her desire to understand her vision. "Master Skywalker?" she says again, taking a step forward cautiously like he's a happabore about to charge. "Are you…are you alright?"

Just like earlier, there's no response. He lifts his head, and he looks as though he's aged a thousand years since he'd left her in that clearing. His eyes are red, full of barely-concealed pain, and it makes the breath catch in her lungs. But if he's not going to answer, then she's not going to make him. Not when there's still so much that she doesn't understand.

"I had a vision," she says, even though he already knows this. "While Finn and I were trying to find each other in the Force. It was…strange. Very strange. More like a memory or a dream than a vision, really." He doesn't ask what it was of, but she rushes to fill the silence anyway. "I saw my family leaving me on Jakku. With Unkar Plutt." Her lip curls instinctively as she says the alien's name, but her disdain doesn't last for long. "And there was a woman there. I think she was my mother—I mean, I called her Mama so she _must_ have been my mother. She said she'd come back for me once it was safe, so…"

 _So she must have left to protect me._ That realization hits Rey like a punch to the chest, bringing with it an old pain and grief and—oddly enough—relief. Her family had cared about her. They'd loved her. They'd left her on that awful planet in a last-ditch attempt to keep her safe, and they had wanted to come back for her. _So why didn't they?_

 _Stay here, Rey. I'll come back for you. I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise._

"I need to figure out who that woman was," Rey says, and then nods as if to corroborate her own point. Yes, that's the best course of action. "Where she went, why she didn't come back for me, her name—"

"Mara."

Skywalker's voice—hoarse and raspy, like he's spent a week scavenging in the ruins of a starship with no water—takes Rey by surprise, and she looks over at him with a frown. "What?"

"Mara," he repeats. Fragile and strong all at once, like he's holding onto his composure by the skin of his teeth. "The woman in—in your memory. Her name was Mara Jade."

Mara Jade. There's not a flicker of uncertainty in Skywalker's face, no hint that he's kidding, which means that he must be telling the truth. Maybe by reconnecting to the Force he'd seen her vision, but how would he know her mother's name unless… "Did you know her?"

"Yes." He sounds like he's forcing the answer out of the depths of his soul, but at least he's talking again. And he's telling her about her mother, which means she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. "She was…a strong fighter. Loyal, and brave, and funny. And she always gave her best at everything she did."

Something about the way he describes Mara makes Rey uneasy. "Who was she to you?"

She's expecting _my friend,_ or _a fellow rebel,_ or even _a former enemy._ But Skywalker just inclines his head and, without even meeting her eyes, whispers, "My wife."

For a single heartbeat, Rey forgets how to breathe. Crazily, she's tempted to ask if Skywalker is joking. But then his head comes up again, and his eyes meet hers, and she knows down to her bones that he's not lying. Mara Jade, her mother, had been his wife. And that means that he's…that he's…

The entire world has fallen out of orbit; it spins with dizzying speed, and Rey inhales sharply in an effort to suppress the nausea welling up inside her. The news seems to tear into her with a ferocity that is unparalleled even by the worst sandstorms on Jakku, the ones that could rip through solid metal and choke a man to death.

" _I won't be gone for long, alright? I promise. I need to tell your father where you are, and then we'll both come back for you once it's safe. Do you understand?"_

"And who am I to you?" she manages, even though her voice is barely audible, so close to crumbling to dust. Even though part of her already knows the answer.

The pause lasts for what feels like an eternity. The universe expands, collapses, and bursts outward again. "My daughter." He gives a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "You're my daughter, Rey."

And Rey—

Rey can't breathe. Can't think, can't move. All that's left is the shock that's holding her heart in a grip tight enough to bruise. Everything around her—the flames roaring in the fireplace, the chirping of the birds and the voices of the caretakers outside—has fallen away, her world winnowing down to Skywalker and the admission that is still ricocheting in her head like a blaster bolt in a metal box.

Luke Skywalker, the hero of the rebellion, the scourge of the Galactic Empire, the Jedi Knight that is more myth than man, is her father.

"No," she whispers. Her chest is heaving and the blood rushing through her ears pounds a staccato against her brain. This can't be true; it _can't._ She's just a scavenger from Jakku who stumbled and fell into this whirlwind adventure. She can't be his daughter. She can't be a Skywalker. "No. That's not…that can't—you can't be my…"

"Rey." Skywalker's voice is soft, barely audible. He's stood up from the table and now he's the one moving toward her with caution. "I am. Mara is—she was your mother. And I'm your father."

But she's shaking her head before he's even done talking. A new feeling has crept past her defenses, boiling the blood in her veins that had frozen from the earlier wave of world-tilting shock. Anger. "No," she repeats, her voice much louder now. "You can't be—you can't be my father. You—you left me there! You left me alone on Jakku! A father is—a _family_ is always supposed to come back, and you never did! Neither of you did!" Her breathing is getting noticeably more erratic, her breaths coming fast and shallow. "I don't have a family. I can't!"

"Rey." Skywalker reaches out for her but she pushes back from him. There's not enough air in here and nothing makes sense. She needs to leave, she needs to run as far away from here as possible. Anywhere is better than here. "Rey, please wait—"

But Rey's already gone.

* * *

Finn's just reached the valley (and his muscles are aching something fierce from hiking nearly a mile up the rocky mountain) when a blur of brown and green and gray slams into him, sending him flying back into the dirt. Once his vision adjusts and he notices that it's Rey on top of him, his irritation at being knocked down is quickly replaced with worry. Especially since he sees that she's on the verge of tears. "Rey? Are you okay?"

She doesn't answer; she's shaking and her heart is beating so hard that he can feel it through her clothes. "I need to get out of here," she says, her voice hoarse from tears and panic. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I—Skywalker—he—"

"Whoa, wait, what are you talking about? Why do you need to leave? What did Master Skywalker say to you?" Never mind that Skywalker is a Jedi and could probably beat him in a fight with one hand tied behind his back: if he'd hurt Rey in any way then he'll have Finn to answer to. "Rey?"

She inhales sharply, sitting back and swiping a hand under her eyes almost violently, as if she's trying to erase all the evidence of her tears. Finn offers her his hand, which she takes with a grateful squeeze. Then her eyes meet his, and she whispers, "He's my father."

Finn's entire world grinds to a halt. "What? Who is?"

"Master Skywalker. He's my…my father. He told me."

Kriffing hell. Luke Skywalker—the savior of the Rebellion and the scourge of both the Galactic Empire and the First Order—is Rey's father. That can't be true. Can it?

His brows furrow. Well, if he thinks about it—if he casts his mind back to the holos and posters of Luke Skywalker that he'd seen on D'Qar and in the First Order—he can sort of see the resemblance. They've got the same wispy hair, the same nose and jaw. The same smile. The same innate kindness and determination to do the right thing no matter the odds. Maybe it really is true.

While Finn continues to try and process this new piece of information, Rey looks down at her knees and releases a shaky breath. "Something happened when I saw you in the Force. One second you were there, and the next I had this…this vision. I saw my mother abandoning me on Jakku."

His heart seizes in his chest. So Rey had had a vision too. And just like him, she'd caught a glimpse of her family. This is too strange to be a coincidence, and he wonders if the unresolved secrets of their past had been what had broken apart their Force connection. Then the rest of Rey's words hit him. "Your mother? What was she like?"

"I didn't…I didn't get to see much. But she was—she looked fierce. And beautiful. And she promised she and my father would come back for me, but they never did." She sounds close to dissolving into tears again. "And Master Skywalker saw my vision. He—he reconnected to the Force and saw my vision, and that's how I found out he knew my mother and that he..." She trails off, but the implied _that he's my father_ hangs heavily in the air. "And I got so…so angry and frightened all at once when he told me, and I couldn't be in the same room with him any longer. So I ran. Right into you."

"Do you…" He hesitates, unsure of how to say it. Unsure if he wants to hear her answer. "Do you still want to leave?" He did promise that if she ever wanted to go back to Jakku he'd take her there. He hadn't thought she'd take him up on the offer once their adventure had began, but now…

"I don't know," she admits. Relief hits him so hard that if he hadn't been sitting down he might have fallen over. "I just…" Her voice goes soft, barely audible. "Why didn't he come back for me, Finn?"

He slides closer and puts his arm around her, and she leans back against him like the weight of every planet in the Outer Reaches is pressing down on her shoulders. He searches his mind for something reassuring, but comes up with a memory instead. "Remember what Solo said? Snoke threatened Master Skywalker's family, so he told his wife to take their kid and go into hiding. And then Snoke…"

He can't say it, but Rey can. "Snoke said that he killed them."

"Yeah. And Solo said Master Skywalker spent months trying to find them, but he couldn't." He can sense that this is bringing up bad memories for Rey of Solo's murder, so he changes the subject. "What I'm saying is, he must have wanted to come back for you. He tried. But he just couldn't find you." He lets some humor slide into his voice. "And Jakku's a little out of the way of everything."

That prompts a laugh. A small one, but he counts it as a victory anyway. "It's really not that remote, you know."

He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'll take your word for it."

For a second, there's silence except for the chirping of the porgs that are waddling by. Then Rey says, "I'm still angry with him."

It's almost like a confession. A confession that Finn does not know how to respond to. "That's okay," he says. "You're allowed to be as angry as you want with him."

"I know. But what I feel—it's not all anger. It's sadness, fear, grief. Confusion. Even a little happiness because I finally have _some_ answers. It's all a swirling mess of emotion that I don't know how to handle." She presses her lips together. "I don't know how I feel, or how I _want_ to feel. Or if I can even accept him as my father yet."

"That's okay too." He takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. "And no matter what you decide, I'm here for you."

"I know." Her smile is tiny, but it's genuine. "Thank you, Finn."

"Anytime, Rey."

* * *

Skywalker is waiting for them both in the valley, and he looks so damn relieved to see that Rey hasn't fled the island (and no longer looks as angry or devastated as she had before) that it makes Finn somewhat uncomfortable. As neither Rey nor Skywalker know what to say to each other, Finn fills the silence for the next several minutes with an explanation of the Force-vision he'd experienced. By the time he's done, both Skywalker and Rey are staring at him, their mouths open in identical expressions of shock. "And you're sure that that woman was your mother?"

"Positive," Finn says. He knows it down to his very bones. "I don't know who the other man was," nor does he remember the man's name, "but I have a feeling he was family too. In some way or another." He pauses, waiting for the information to register before he drops his next bombshell. "And I want to find them."

Much to his surprise, Skywalker doesn't react outwardly, almost like he'd expected Finn to say that. "Did you see where they were? Your family."

Finn doesn't understand the question. "What do you mean?"

"Many years ago, when I was training with Master Yoda, I had a vision that Leia and…and Han were in trouble. I saw them in a city in the clouds, on Bespin. When you saw your family—your mother and that other man—did you know where they were?"

"It was a city," he says after a moment's pause, even though it's not much of an answer. "Old buildings, cobblestone streets. There was…there was a plaza. My mother took me there when she tried to make a run for it. She hid behind a statue." He closes his eyes, trying to call up the memory. "The statue was of two Twi'leks holding hands. I remember that. But I don't remember what that city was called, or even what planet it's on. Neither of them mentioned it." With the answers so close yet so far away, he feels like cursing, and he opens his eyes again. "Do either of you know?"

It's a long shot, and he's not surprised to see Rey shake her head. Skywalker, on the other hand, has his brow furrowed in thought. "That statue that you saw. Was it old and gray and made of marble?"

He pauses again. "Yeah. I think so." He'd only seen it for the briefest of seconds, but from what he remembers it had certainly looked like it had stood there for a hundred years at least. And it'd been carved from material the same color as the tunic his mother had been wearing. "Why? Do you—do you know where it is?"

"The only city I know with a statue like that in a plaza is Galfridian City," Skywalker says. "It's in the capital of Artorias, an Outer Rim planet. My wife and I…" His eyes shift to Rey, whose shoulders go stiff. "We were there with some friends of ours almost thirty years ago. On…diplomatic business."

Hope swells in the pit of his stomach even as he knows his next sentence will not go over well. "Then I have to leave. I have to go to Galfridian City and find my family; I need to—"

"Finn." Hearing Luke Skywalker say his name is still so strange that it stops his rambling in its tracks. "I understand what it's like to want to find your family. Believe me, I do. But that vision you had was of events more than twenty years ago. How do you know if your mother is still alive?"

His mother's scream fills his ears again and it's all he can do to keep from shuddering. "I don't," he says. "But if there's a chance that my family is still out there, I need to find them. I know it's the right thing to do."

A pause, then, "He's right." Both Skywalker and Finn turn to look at Rey, and she meets their gazes unflinchingly. It's one of the things he's always loved about her. "Finding his family—even if the odds are against him—is the right thing to do." He has a feeling that she's talking about far more than his situation, but she presses on before he can say anything. "I'll take you to Galfridian City, Finn."

Finn's eyes don't pop out of his head, but it's a near thing. "What?"

"I'll take you there," Rey repeats. She crosses her arms over her chest, her hand briefly brushing against the lightsaber holstered at her side. "I'll fly you in the Millennium Falcon. And once we get there, we can work on finding information about your family."

"Rey, I…" Her use of 'we' had not escaped his attention, and while he's mostly grateful for her support, part of him wonders whether or not she's using this as an excuse to escape another uncomfortable confrontation with Skywalker. "Are you sure? I mean, General Organa sent us here to train—just because I'm going doesn't mean you have to too."

Her gaze moves to Skywalker, who had taken a step backward to give them some space and now meets her eyes with a nod. "I said I'd train you both, and I will," he says. Then he pauses, lowering his voice so Finn can barely hear him. "Rey. If you—if this is because of…of what I told you—"

"It's not," Rey says, even though she doesn't sound like she believes herself. "I want to help him find his family. Besides," and this is more directed at Finn, "it's not like there any other way to get off this planet, and I'm the only one that knows how to pilot the Falcon."

It's very logical reasoning, but Finn isn't ruling out the possibility of an ulterior motive. Neither, apparently, is Skywalker. "I understand," he says. "But please know that…that I'm sorry for any hurt and confusion I caused you earlier. I'm happy to just be your teacher, if that's all you want."

Now it's Finn's turn to take a step back, as he knows for sure that he has no place in this conversation. Rey has gone so still that a stiff breeze could knock her down, and when she speaks her voice is very quiet. "And what do you want?"

"I just want to get to know you."

The answer is so pure and simple that Finn finds himself caught off guard. He can't find any insincerity in the older man's voice or expression. Apparently neither can Rey, who presses her lips together before averting her eyes once more.

Skywalker clears his throat. "If it's as dangerous as you say it is out there, you probably shouldn't search for longer than three days," he says to Finn. "The longer the Millennium Falcon's out in the open, the better chance the First Order has of finding you."

Finn remembers Solo saying something similar not long ago and is unexpectedly melancholy at the thought. Still, he forces past the twinge of grief and says, "Then we'll be back in three days." Three days isn't nearly enough time to search an entire city for a woman whose name he doesn't even remember, but surely Galfridian City has records of missing children and the event he witnessed. Between him and Rey, they'll figure it out. "And then we'll come back and finish training with you." He glances over at Rey, who nods. "You have our word."

To his surprise, a smile tugs at the corner of Skywalker's mouth. "I remember saying the same thing to my own master before I left to save Han and Leia all those years ago." His gaze goes solemn. "I hope your journey comes to a better conclusion than mine did."

Finn raises his eyebrows. "Why, what happened?"

"I lost a hand and found out Darth Vader was my father," Skywalker deadpans. "Bit of a rough day."

"Oh." Finn feels himself blushing, and Rey looks very amused at his discomfort. "Yeah. I—yeah. I can see why."

Skywalker's clearly amused too, but he hides it well. "If you set out at dawn, you should make it to Artorias by mid-afternoon. That'll give you plenty of time to start your search."

"Right." Somehow the sun is already setting around them—how had the day gone by so quickly? And they'll need to pack, not to mention let R2-D2 (who's been watching the ship and monitoring any contact from the Resistance for the last few days) know what's going on.

"I'll come by in the morning to see you off," Skywalker says. He glances over at Rey again. "Is that alright?"

For a moment, she looks the same way she had back on Jakku when Finn had first asked her if she was alright — like the notion of someone caring about her is too foreign to make sense of. "Yes," she says, not unkindly. "That's alright."

"Alright." He pulls his hood up over his head, giving them one last searching look. "I'll see you both then."

* * *

 _*ducks flung objects* I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Writer's block and real life have hit me hard these last couple months, but now that school is finally winding down I'll be able to update more regularly again._

 _Thank you all for your lovely response to the last chapter; I hope this one was worth the wait!_

 _Stay tuned for Chapter VI, in which Finn and Rey arrive on Artorias, Rey makes a crucial decision, and Finn finds the answers he's been searching for._


	6. Chapter VI

That night, Rey can't sleep.

She keeps tossing and turning, unable to nod off. Normally the sound of Finn's quiet breathing (and his steady presence) would be enough to lull her to sleep, but it's not enough tonight, not with the day's events and Skywalker's admission still pounding a tattoo into her brain.

Tomorrow morning, she and Finn will leave Ahch-To for Artorias, to find Finn's family. Finn hadn't said much about the trip, but Rey can still tell that he's nervous about what he will find — or if he'll find any information on his family at all. In fact, the only thing he said was that he was grateful Rey wanted to come with him, but he wanted to make sure that she knew she wasn't obligated to go with him.

It hadn't been obligation that had driven her decision, though. Not entirely. A good deal of it had been logic; after all, she's the only one that can fly the Falcon, and Finn has to get to Artorias somehow. And, though she'd denied it when Skywalker and Finn had pressed her about it that afternoon, some of it had been due to the revelation that had turned her world upside down.

She did have a family. She had a mother named Mara Jade, who was beautiful and fierce and strong and left her on Jakku to protect her. Mara had wanted to come back for her, but she'd been killed by Supreme Leader Snoke. And her father — Skywalker, _Luke Skywalker,_ the hero of the last war — had given up on her. He'd left her on Jakku.

For so many years, she'd imagined reuniting with her family. Imagined what it would feel like to be hugged by her mother, or kissed by her father; if she had siblings, or cousins, or pets, and what they were like. And then she'd found Finn, and gone on an adventure with him, and she'd thought that that would be enough. But now she has a _father,_ a father who wants her in his life, and she has no idea what to do.

It'd be so easy to accept Skywalker's offer just to see him as her teacher and nothing more, and yet…

 _"I just want to get to know you."_

Rey breathes out, staring up at the ceiling of the Falcon.

Force, what is she going to do?

* * *

They leave Ahch-To early the next morning. R2-D2 had elected to stay with Skywalker so they could catch up, so Finn and Rey are the only ones on board. All of their belongings are still in the lounge, and thankfully there's no repairs that need to be done, so Finn sits next to Rey in the cockpit. She doesn't seem to be up for conversation (understandable, given the fact that she'd barely slept the night before) and Finn knows her well enough not to pry. When she's ready, she'll tell him what she's thinking about. Until then, he takes it upon himself to distract her with mindless small talk and all of the jokes he knows: partially just so he can see her smile, and partially to get his mind off the anxiety that's making his stomach churn.

The Falcon descends into Artorias's atmosphere by late afternoon, following a cluster of trading vessels to Galfridian City. Finn can't take his eyes off their surroundings as they get closer to the tarmac: it's the most beautiful place he's ever seen. The sky is a pale blue, dotted with white fluffy clouds, and the fields of swaying green grasses and brightly-colored crops shine in the sun. And the longer he looks at his surroundings, the more something tight in his chest seems to unclench. He had been here before. This is his home.

The Galfridian City tarmac is full of trade vessels and quad-jumpers, and the Millennium Falcon sticks out like a sore thumb. Finn's a little worried about what Skywalker had said about the Falcon's chances of being spotted by the authorities the longer they stay here, but this is an Outer Rims planet. That, and their three day deadline, means they'll probably be alright.

"Okay," he says once they land and Rey's turned off the engines. "So since we've only got three days, we should have a game plan. Search one part of the city one day, and then another part of it the next. Or we can look for some place that would have information about what I saw, like a city hall, or a library. Something like that. What do you think?"

Rey doesn't answer, and that's when Finn notices she's not even looking at him. She's staring at the console like it has the answers to the universe etched in the wiring, and it makes him uneasy.

"Hey," he says, quieter this time. He reaches out and takes her hand. "Rey. Are you okay?"

"I…" Her voice is barely audible. "I think it's a good plan. But…" She takes a breath. "Finn, I don't think I'm coming with you."

It only takes a second for him to understand what she's talking about. "You want to go back to Skywalker?"

She gives a tiny, jerky nod. "I don't know if 'want' is the right word, really," she whispers. "But I…I want to know about my mother. And I…I don't know if I can accept him as my father yet, but…I want to get to know him too." Her eyes are welling up with tears, but Finn knows they're from guilt, not regret. "Will you be alright if I go back?"

"You kidding? With all three days of my Jedi training? Just try to find anybody who can take me down." To his relief, that makes Rey laugh, and he takes her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles. "I'll be okay," he says. "Don't worry about me, Rey. Just do what you think is best for you."

A ghost of a smile flickers on her lips, and he can see her straighten, see the strength and determination that he loves so much return to her posture. "Okay," she says. "I'll go back. And I'll be back for you in three days."

"Contact me from the beacon we left with Master Skywalker," Finn says. "You know. If you miss me or anything."

Rey's smile grows. "I will."

They gather Finn's belongings from the den and put them into one of Han's old knapsacks, and Rey walks with him down the ramp and onto the tarmac. He can see some signs advertising transportation to the center of the city, which isn't that far from here. The air is sweet, and it's warm here, perfect temperatures with a slight breeze.

His mother could be in this city. He could have a whole family here. And while it's a little daunting to be facing this challenge without Rey at his side, he knows that he can do it. He has to. He's not giving up on his family without a fight.

Finn slings the knapsack onto his back. "Three days," he says.

"Three days."

"Good luck with Master Skywalker." Finn kind of wishes he could be there to see the look on Skywalker's face when he finds out Rey had come back. Probably bright enough to outshine the stars. "Not that you'll need it."

"And good luck finding your family," Rey says. Her expression is soft, a little teasing. "Not that you'll need it either."

She embraces him, and he holds onto her just as tightly, breathing her in, trying to memorize the feeling of her — as if there isn't an inch of her that he doesn't already know by heart.

And then Rey leans up and kisses him. It's their first real kiss since he'd woken up in the D'Qar infirmary — since Jakku, if he's being honest. It's soft, only lasts a few seconds, but it feels just like the others had. Like coming home.

"Bye, Finn," she whispers.

Finn reluctantly lets her go. "Bye, Rey."

He stands on the tarmac watching her go long after the Falcon has risen and disappeared into the afternoon sky, returning to Luke Skywalker.

* * *

Galfridian City is about half an hour away from the tarmac, by a mode of transportation other than walking. But he's a Stormtrooper — an ex-Trooper, anyway — and he'd braved long treks through sandstorms on Jakku and through the snow on Starkiller Base. Walking in Artorias, with its perfect weather and light breeze, is a walk in the park in comparison.

The city is beautiful, unlike anything he's ever seen before. High-rise skyscrapers, dotted with aerial gardens and parks, loom over low-slung commercial corridors where street life bustles. Stalls and shopfronts line the cobblestone streets, and the pleasant smells of spices and grilled meat drift up into the afternoon air. Workers dressed in simple shirts and trousers call out prices for everything from food to jewelry to clothing, and their voices rise even above the lilting guitar music played by a band parked on the corner.

The plaza in the center of the city is just as crowded as the marketplace. A fountain bubbles and spills into a large circular pool, lined in gold and navy blue tiles, and small children giggle and dance around in the water while their parents look on. People sit at small tables chatting and drinking kaf, or walk around with their arms laden with shopping bags. The planet's fashion seems to favor bold prints and flowing fabric; many of the women have brightly-colored scarves wrapped around their heads, and several of the men wear drawstring trousers and loose-fitting shirts with embroidered neck and sleeve lines. Yet as beautiful as his surroundings are, Finn only has eyes for the statue in the corner of the plaza: a gray marble statue of two Twi'leks holding hands.

Less than a second later, Finn has crossed the plaza and is at the base of the statue. It looks older and more weathered than it had in his vision, but this is definitely the same statue. And if this is the same statue, then that means information on his family must be nearby as well. He just has to figure out where to look.

Thankfully, all he has to do is look to his right, where a woman dressed in blue is laying down a wreath of flowers at the base of a wall. As he gets closer, he notices that there are names etched into the marble, hundreds of them, one after the other. Flowers and coins and candles are on the ground next to the wall, which leads Finn to believe that this must be some sort of memorial. But for what?

"For the Morning Massacre."

Finn's head shoots up. The woman is smiling at him, kind but a little awkward. _Force, did I say that out loud?_ "Sorry, what?"

"You asked what the memorial was for. It's in honor of the victims of the Morning Massacre." She steps forward, pointing at a golden square the size of a datapad in the middle of the wall. "See?"

The inscription is in Basic, which is one of the languages that he does know how to read, thank the Force, but his nerves make it damn near impossible to concentrate. He pinches the palm of his hand, forcing himself to focus, and he leans forward to read the sign.

 _This memorial is dedicated to the citizens of Artorias who perished during the Morning Massacre of 11 ABY. May their memories forever be a blessing and their spirits live on in our hearts._

 _Created by the ASRA in 13 ABY. Further records are available at Nsubuga City Hall._

11 ABY. That had been twenty-three rotations ago, right around the time he'd been stolen from his family and inducted into the Stormtrooper program. So his vision must have been about this massacre, the Morning Massacre. His eyes return to the hundreds of names etched on the wall and he feels a little sick. Is his mother's name on there? His father's? The man who had told his mother to run?

He pulls himself out of that line of thought with effort and returns to the sign. Further records are available at Nsubuga City Hall. That'll have to be his next stop. If he can't find any information there, then he'll stop for the night and try once more tomorrow. Clearing his throat, he looks up at the woman and says, "Do you know where I can find Nsubuga City Hall?"

She stifles her giggle in the palm of her hand. "You're not from around here, are you."

 _I am, but not in the way that you think._ "Not really, no."

Her eyes soften. "Nsubuga Hall is two blocks over," she says, pronouncing the title like _suh-boo-gah._ "Big older building. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." He means it more than words can express. "I appreciate it. Uh. Have a good rest of your day."

Nsubuga City Hall is an old three-story building of creamy stone, set back from the street behind a courtyard lined with red-leaved trees and low benches. There are a few people coming in and out of the doors wearing neat suits and colorful dresses, but otherwise the place looks deserted. Still, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, bracing himself as he enters.

Less than a second after crossing the threshold, he takes back his earlier assumption that the place was deserted, because it is anything but that. The lobby is barely organized chaos, with humans and aliens of all genders and races shouting and running from place to place. Floor to ceiling windows provide the only light, which glints off the polished brass and wood of the desks and booths and counters around the room. Officials dressed the same as the people he saw earlier walk around carrying stacks of paper and snapping at anyone who appears to be dawdling. Everything is a frantic blur of activity that rivals even the Resistance base on D'Qar.

So engrossed is he with the commotion of the crowded lobby that he doesn't notice anyone approaching him until he turns around and smacks into someone, sending her and the papers she'd been carrying onto the floor with a thud.

Luckily it's so busy around the building that no one really looks askance at them, but Finn feels himself flush from embarrassment anyway. "Are you alright?" He kneels to the ground, gathering some of the papers that have scattered out of the woman's reach and trying his best to organize them. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, I didn't see you."

"That's quite alright, I wasn't looking where I was going either. _Malda,_ look at me with my head in the clouds…"

While she's gathering the rest of her papers, he takes a few seconds to look her over. She's wearing a white jacket over a navy blue blouse and a pair of black pants. A necklace with a green butterfly charm rests on her chest, and she has three gold rings on the pointer, middle, and ring finger on her left hand. Dark hair falls in gentle waves around her face, and her tan skin is creased with laughter lines. Probably in her early fifties, if Finn had to guess. He returns the sheath of papers he'd collected to her. "Here you go," he says, but then he has an idea. "Ma'am, I was wondering if you could help me."

"I have a lot of work to do, sir, but if it's in my power, I can certainly direct you to…" Her words come to an abrupt halt as her eyes land on him, and her face drains of color so quickly that he wonders if she's about to faint. A gasp leaves her lips instead, startled and a beat late, as if it had been punched out of her. "Felix?"

He blinks. "…uh. Finn, actually."

"Of…of course. I'm sorry." She gets to her feet slowly, her eyes still on him like she's afraid he'll disappear if she looks away for even a moment. Even in high heels she's barely taller than General Organa. "It's just that…well, you look rather like…" She tilts her head, clearly thinking hard, and he can almost see the gears whirring in her mind. "What did you say you needed help with?"

"I didn't, but…" For some reason his instincts are telling him that he can trust this woman, and his instincts haven't been wrong yet, so he figures he can give them the benefit of the doubt again. "I was looking for information on my parents. I think…I think that they might have been killed in the Morning Massacre."

She swallows hard. "I see. I…you aren't from the city, are you?"

"No." He almost asks how she'd guessed that but if his clothes, lack of an Artorian accent, and the way he'd been looking around like a tourist minutes before are any indication, then that must be fairly obvious. Hell, that woman at the memorial had guessed the truth in less than a second. "I'm, uh…" What should he say? What _can_ he say? He decides on the truth, or at least some of it. "I think I was born here, but I…I grew up somewhere else."

What little color she'd regained disappears again, and she looks like she's come face to face with a ghost. It takes her several seconds to regain the power of speech. "Would you please come with me, sir?" His alarm must show on his face because she hastily adds, "You aren't in any trouble. I just — I just have a few questions for you, and then I'll do my best to help you find the information you're seeking."

He weighs that in his mind for a moment. Getting asked a few questions seems a small price to pay in exchange for finding out about his family. And he still doesn't know why, but he feels like he can trust her. "Alright."

Five minutes later, they're in a sequestered conference room on the other side of the building. Its previous occupants had left with no complaints after seeing the woman at Finn's side, which leaves him with even more questions. His hands spasm in his lap, and he wishes Rey were there. He could really use her support right now.

"You said your name is Finn, correct?"

He looks up. "Yes." Then, to be polite, "What's yours?"

She raises her eyebrows, almost startled, like she's surprised he doesn't know. "Ffion Lapara." She pronounces it like Effie-on, and Finn finally manages to place her accent. She's Yavinese, like Poe and some of the others back on D'Qar. "If you were not raised on this planet, how did you know your parents were killed in the Morning Massacre?"

He hesitates. "I…I've been having these dreams," he says truthfully. "About where I came from."

"Dreams." She sounds skeptical. Polite, but skeptical. She'd probably sound even more skeptical if he said they'd been Force-visions. "And they led you here?"

"I — yes. I knew to come to Galfridian City because of the statue in the main square." He remembers the screams, the blaster fire, the Stormtroopers, and swallows hard. "I remembered it. That's where I was…where I was taken."

"By whom?"

 _Go big or go home._ "By the First Order," he says quietly. Her eyes go wide. "I, er, was a Stormtrooper until recently."

Ffion's hand goes to the butterfly charm on her necklace almost subconsciously, and then, as though she's just remembered something important, rises to her feet. She pushes back the sleeve of her jacket, revealing a black bracelet, and taps one of the beads. A hologram pops up, and as she speaks, words appear on the screen. "Wick. Cancel your meeting. Conference room B. Bring Senator Solbourne." A pause. "Now."

"Whoa, hang on." Finn gets to his feet as the words disappear, his blood freezing in his veins. "Am I in trouble? If this is about the Stormtrooper thing then I promise I'm not one of them, not anymore—"

"What?" Ffion stares at him. "No, you aren't in any trouble. We just want to ask you a few more questions."

"Ma'am — Ms. Lapara, if you're too busy to help me then that's fine, I can find information about my family on my own." His mind races, trying to formulate a plan. He can outrun her, make it back to the plaza in no time. He'll signal Rey, hide out for a few hours until she can come back for him—

"This has to do with your family, sir. I promise. Please, just…just trust me."

She looks so sincere and desperate that Finn can't bring himself to argue. Maybe he really can trust her — and if not, he'll signal Rey and get off the planet one way or another.

A few minutes pass. Then there's a knock on the door, and before he or Ffion can cross the room it swings open, revealing a man in his early sixties. He's got rich brown skin, hair that's more gray than brown, a gray goatee, square-shaped glasses, and hazel eyes just a shade lighter than Rey's. He looks winded, like he'd run from one end of the building to the other, and he rolls up the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket. "I got your message," he says, and he's surprisingly soft-spoken for a man of his height. "The Senator is on her way. What's happened? Is everything alright?"

"Wick, this is Finn." Ffion nods at Finn, who manages an awkward wave. "Finn, this is Wick Mandae."

Wick glances over at Finn and suddenly goes still. _"Ai bha gavaan,"_ he whispers. "Ffion, do you believe—"

"Yes. Look at him, Wick. He's the spitting image of Felix. Surely you see it too."

"It could be a coincidence," Wick says, but he doesn't sound like he believes himself. To Finn, he says, "Where did you come from? How did you meet Ms. Lapara like this?"

Finn raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. This feels less like friendly questioning and more like an interrogation, but he has no idea what answer they're seeking. "I ran into her in the lobby by accident. I said — I told her that I thought my parents were killed in the Morning Massacre and wanted to know more about them, and she said she could help."

"If this is a coincidence, it's the greatest one I've ever seen," Ffion says passionately. "The timing fits. Everything fits, Wick. Now we just have to wait for Senator Solbourne to—"

"Wait for me to do what?"

Finn looks up, and all the air leaves his lungs at once.

Standing in the doorway is a woman who seems to be the very embodiment of regal grace and charm. She's younger than both Wick and Ffion, likely in her mid-forties. She wears a long gown of dark blue with gold stitching, an emerald green scarf draped over her shoulders, her makeup just so. Strands of black hair peek out from underneath the dark blue scarf wrapped around her head. Gold hoop earrings match her rings and necklaces, which catch the light as she steps forward, closing the door behind her. He cannot take his eyes off her, nor she off him.

"Wick." Her voice quivers. "Ffion. I — is this—"

"We think so, Velle," Wick murmurs.

She moves slowly across the room. She's shorter than him but no less lithe and muscular, and the charisma she exudes even now makes her seem like she's towering over him. When she comes to a halt a few feet before him, he notices that her eyes are brown. _Just like mine._

"Samson?" Her voice is soft, barely audible, so close to crumbling to dust. She reaches out and then retracts her hand as though afraid he'll fade to mist if she touches him. "Are you…are you Samson?"

His heart hammers against his ribs so loudly that he's sure the woman before him can hear it. "Finn," he says quietly. "My name is Finn."

"Finn." Years of pent-up emotion and grief war in her expression, and she swallows hard. "You look…" Her voice breaks. "You look so much like your father."

His throat closes up completely.

This is his mother. Velle Solbourne, the Senator of Artorias, is his mother. He doesn't need verbal confirmation or any dreams to prove it. He can feel it in his heart, in his soul, in the very Force around him. This is his mother.

Tears brim in his eyes, blurring his vision. "Mom?"

She nods, the movement small and jerky. She's smiling, damn near beaming even as tears of her own start to break free, and it's like the sun shining through storm clouds. She reaches out and touches his face with a trembling hand, and that seems to be the cue for them to fall into each other's arms, both of them crying, both of them smiling. Wick and Ffion are still there, both crying as well, but they are mere shadows on the edge of Finn's world because this is his mother. His _mother._ He found her.

"Mom. Mom, I found you, I found you—"

"My baby. Oh, Samson, my baby, my baby boy. You're home." Velle pulls back slightly, tears streaming down her face, cupping his head in her hands. These are the same hands that held him as a baby, the same voice that sang him to sleep at night. She releases a breathless laugh, full of joyful disbelief, and he can't help but do the same. "You're home, my son. You're home."

* * *

 _*arrives six months late to my own fic with Starbucks* Nothing to see here, move along…_

 _Fun fact: my original outline of this story had Rey staying with Finn on Artorias, but I realized that it would be better for both of their characters to be separated — especially since I didn't want Rey to be third-wheeling Finn and his mother the entire time lol. The next few days are set to be very exciting for both of them._

 _Stay tuned for Chapter VII, in which Luke and Rey start over, Finn learns more about his family, Slip receives a threat to stay in line, and Poe's rescue mission departs at last. And someone dies._


	7. Chapter VII

They'd finished hammering out all of the details the previous night, and by the next evening Poe's squadron is finally ready to depart for their rescue mission. Paige still wishes that Rose weren't coming with them — if it were up to her, she'd wrap Rose in blankets and keep her hidden as far away from this war as possible — but once her sister makes up her mind, she never changes it. She just hopes that Rose will be able to handle this — and that they'll all get in and out of the _Finalizer_ in one piece.

"Paige, wait up!"

Paige turns around, but whatever question she'd meant to ask promptly vanishes when Kaydel reaches her, and, standing on her tiptoes, kisses her on the cheek. It's over in less than a second (and must have been meant as a friendly gesture) but Paige blushes up to the roots of her hair anyway. "What was that for?"

"For luck," Kaydel says, like it's obvious, and smiles at her. Paige would fly dangerous missions every day for the rest of her life if it meant Kaydel would smile at her like that. "Now you and the others will be alright."

"Thanks, Kay." For a second Paige is tempted to lean down and return the favor, but she's not quite brave enough for that, so she just hugs her friend instead. Someone — probably Karé, who Paige is pretty sure had slept in the hangar the night before — shouts for her to hurry up, and she regretfully pulls back. "Uh, I've got to go. But I'll see you later."

"You'd better," Kaydel warns, but she's still smiling. "Good luck out there, Paige."

Paige doesn't stop smiling the rest of the way back to the hangar.

* * *

"You came back."

Rey pulls her shawl closer around her, trying to keep her expression resolute. Years of fighting for her life on Jakku have taught her to never let anyone see her cringe. She has to stay strong, even though every cell in her body is screaming for her to run as fast as her legs can take, to fly back to Artorias to be with Finn. But he's on his own journey now, finding his family, and the last remaining member of _her_ family is standing before her now, looking so desperately hopeful it makes her chest ache. "I did."

"I'm glad you did," Skywalker says quietly, and Force, it'd be so much easier if he'd swore at her, or tried to attack her. She has no idea how to deal with somebody being _kind_ to her. Not even Finn.

"I just…I don't know what to do here." The words spill from her in a rush. "I've never had a family before. I thought I'd be alright without one, and then I met Finn, and I…and now there's _you,_ and you say that you're my father, and you knew my mother, and…" She makes a noise that's half laugh, half sob. "I don't know how to deal with this."

Skywalker flinches. He's not as good as schooling his expression as Rey is. She can see the emotions he wears on his sleeve, no matter how much he tries to hide it. "I understand," he says, ducking his head. "Of course. As I said, you don't—"

"But I want to try."

Skywalker's head snaps up like a frightened porg's, his eyes shining with cautious hope.

Rey swallows hard, and she thinks her hands might be shaking. She knows how to face down scavengers and Stormtroopers and Kylo Ren, but this? Open, complete honesty, letting herself be vulnerable? This is an entirely new kind of terror.

But Luke Skywalker, difficult though it is to accept, is her family. And he wants to have her in his life. And after such a long time spent longing for any kind of family, she'd be a fool to give that up now.

"I want to get to know you too. I want to try. I just don't know…I don't know how to." She takes a breath, lets it out as slowly and steadily as she can. "All those years, I…I was so alone."

"I know," Skywalker whispers. "I'm sorry."

The apology, genuine as it is, isn't what she wants. She just wants to know one thing. "Did you ever try to find me?"

"Of course. For so long I searched the galaxy for you." Skywalker comes closer to her, and she lets him. His gaze is far away, almost like he's halfway between reality and a dream. "Everyone told me that you must have died with Mara, that I should give up searching, but I could feel you through the Force. I knew you were still alive. Every face I saw, it was yours. Every voice I heard, it was yours. I never forgot about you." He swallows hard, and his eyes drop to the grass below them. "When Han and Leia confided in me their troubles with Ben, I thought I could help them. Save Ben when I couldn't save you. But I failed. So I came to this island and turned away from the Force, and I tried to find answers when everything around me seemed meaningless." His eyes are full of tears when they meet hers. "Looking at you now, Rey…I've never felt so lucky."

Lucky. The man who defeated Darth Vader and the Galactic Empire, the man who destroyed the Death Star in one shot, considers finding her again to be the luckiest moment of his life. It's enough to bring tears to her eyes.

"I don't know how to do this either," Skywalker admits. "I mean…my family's a little crazy, as I'm sure you've heard."

Rey manages a laugh. "I have."

"But…like I said, I'd…I'd like to know you, Rey. We can go as slow as you'd prefer." Skywalker chooses every word carefully, like the wrong one might shatter this strange polite truce they have. "And I'm here for you. No matter what you decide."

Her throat is almost too tight for speech. "Okay," she whispers. "Alright."

Skywalker smiles at her, and for a moment, she feels something flicker in the back of her mind — the barest, faintest spark of memory. The memory of a smile just like that, of strong arms picking her up and spinning her around while she'd shrieked with laughter. Her father.

"How did…" Rey hesitates. Tries to find the right question among the thousands now clamoring to the surface. "How did you and my mother meet?"

"She, uh…" Now Skywalker's smile grows more wry. "She tried to kill me, actually."

Rey's eyes almost bug out of her head. "What?"

"It's true." Now Skywalker hesitates. "I can…tell you inside. If you'd like."

Rey glances at the hut behind him, at the smoke rising in plumes from the chimney. "Yes," she says. "Lead the way."

* * *

"You think you're clever, don't you."

Slip doesn't drop the stack of files he's carrying, but it's a near thing. "For what?" he asks, proud that his voice doesn't shake. Nines has stopped before him, his arms crossed over his chest and his posture casual like he owns the entire ship. "Doing my job?"

"For what you've been up to," Nines says. His voice drops so low that Slip has to strain to hear him. "You and all the other slip-ups from Zeta. All of those secret meetings you've been having." Slip has never been more thankful for the helmet he's wearing; if they'd been bare-faced, Nines would have seen right through him. "Trying to make some friends?"

"It's not against r-regs," Slip says, and curses himself for stuttering. That's a sign of weakness he can't afford. "We're supposed to be a cohesive unit. That way we can s-serve the First Order the best way possible."

"Oh," Nines says. "And that's all you're meeting about, isn't it."

Slip bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that he draws blood. Praying that his voice comes out steady, he says, "Of course it is."

"Fine." Nines sounds so easygoing that it makes Slip decidedly uneasy. "Deny it all you want. But I suggest you watch your step from now on, slip-up. I'm watching you."

* * *

By the time he's finishing recounting the story, all Zeroes says is, "That _fucker."_

A laugh startles out of him, but there's no humor in it. His hands had started shaking sometime that afternoon and hadn't stopped since. "He's in Delta Squadron; he's got the right to be a fucker."

"Just because he's got the right doesn't make it the right thing to do."

"Since when has Nines ever given a damn about the right thing to do?"

"Fair point." Zeroes crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. "Still. Good thing he's too busy kissing General Kilson's ass to really notice anything that's going on."

Slip looks over at his friend, barely daring to hope. "Do you really think he bought it? That we aren't doing anything wrong?"

"I think that if Nines actually suspected what we were up to, he'd have told Kilson and we'd have been in the brig by now," Zeroes says. "He's not exactly the type to give people the benefit of the doubt." He sounds so confident that Slip would be hard-pressed not to believe him. "Trust me, Slip. He doesn't know shit. He's just screwing with you because he can."

"Helmet." Slip lets out a breath that he hadn't even known he'd been holding. "Never thought I'd say it, but I sure hope so."

He can't quite tell since they're both wearing their helmets, but he thinks that Zeroes is smiling. "Yeah," he says. "Me too."

* * *

The sun has long since set by the time Finn and Velle stop crying. Velle had insisted on taking Finn home with her, and of course Finn had agreed, so the four of them — Finn, Velle, Ffion, and Wick — go to the ASRA residence, a large beautiful home in the center of the city. Waiting for them in the foyer are three men that Finn doesn't recognize, and the one in the middle steps forward. "Velle," he says. "Is this—"

"It is," Velle says. She's been standing beside Finn this entire time, like if she steps away he'll disappear into dust. Finn can relate. "Finn, this is Collem Ryzka, the Junior Senator of Artorias."

"Coll is fine," Collem Ryzka says, grinning from ear to ear as he shakes Finn's hand. He looks a little older than Velle, maybe in his late forties, with short brown hair and a well-cut navy blue suit and the beginnings of stubble. "By the Force's grace, you really are the spitting image of your father."

"So I've heard," Finn says, smiling even though he suddenly feels awkward. He retracts his hand and steps around Coll to face the other two men. "I'm Finn."

"Kavi Monna," says the second man, shaking his hand. He's a little shorter than Finn, around Rey's height, with graying hair and a firm grip. "Chief of Staff to the Junior Senator. And that's—"

"Sandos," says the third man, with the same Yavinese accent as Ffion, though his speech is slightly slurred. He's around Wick's age, late fifties to early sixties, and he's swaying a little, not even attempting to hide the flask holstered at his side. He seems to be in the stage of inebriation where he's jovial and joking around about everything, which is easy enough to handle. "Sandos Lidden. Deputy Chief of Staff to the Junior Senator. I work under the both of 'em, and under your mom. Bottom of the pole, that's me, but no less happy to have a job worth doing." He throws an arm around Ffion. "So," he says. "Dinner ready to be served yet?"

"Nearly," Ffion says, stilted and polite, and shrugs his arm off. Wick is glaring at Sandos; evidently the three of them are not on the best terms with each other when Sandos is drunk. "I made the arrangements at City Hall."

"Well, let's get to it," Sandos says brightly. Then, with a slight bow, "After you, Madam Senator."

"Thank you, Sandos," says Velle, the hint of an amused smile tugging at her mouth.

They all enter the dining room, where the table is set for seven. Velle sits at the head of the table, and Finn sits at her right. Wick sits at her left, and Ffion sits next to him, looking less than pleased when Sandos sits beside her at the other end of the table. Kavi takes the seat next to Finn, and Coll sits last. A group of maids enter from the side room, each carrying plates of food. They're dressed in green and navy blue, with the word _ASRA_ embroidered on their uniforms above the breast.

"So," Finn says to Wick, as his mother is busy speaking to one of the maids. "What's ASRA?"

"It's an acronym," Wick says. He'd been cleaning his nails with the blade of a silver pocket knife, but he puts the knife back in his jacket pocket and gives Finn his undivided attention. "It stands for Amaty Solbourne Ryzka Administration. Changes from administration to administration, but Solbourne's been in the title for as long as I can remember."

"So Amaty is—"

"My maiden name," says Velle. "I kept it when I married your father, and after he…" Her grip on her wine glass tightens. Clearly the wound of losing her husband is still fresh even after all these years. "After Felix died, I took his last name as well, so his legacy would live on."

His father. Felix Solbourne. Finn looks down at his plate, wondering what he'd been like. He can't remember anything about him — he'd been so young when the First Order had kidnapped him — except a feeling of warmth, maybe the barest trace of a smile.

The maids finally leave the room, and Velle laces her hands together, gathering everyone's attention instantly. "What I am to say will not leave this room," she says, and everybody nods. "You are all aware that Finn is my son — my Samson, returned at last. But what some of you do not know is—"

"I used to be a Stormtrooper," Finn cuts in. If anybody should be bringing this up, it should be him. Ffion and Wick don't react, but Sandos drops his wine glass (thankfully empty) on his lap, and Coll's eyebrows rise up so high that they almost disappear into his hairline. "I was in the First Order, and I'm not anymore. I escaped, and I'm never going back."

"Is that where you got your name from?" Kavi asks, which isn't the question Finn had expected, but he nods anyway.

"Yes," he says. "A…friend gave it to me. My name used to be FN-2187, so…now I'm Finn."

"That would explain it," Coll says, sounding lost in thought for a moment before he offers Finn a sheepish smile. "It would explain why you're no longer going by Samson, that is to say. I didn't want to ask."

"Needless to say," Velle says again, and Coll immediately looks to her. "This information will not leave this room. It will only put my son and the people of Artorias in danger. Finn has said that he can only stay for a few days before he must move on elsewhere," and Force, that had killed him to say to his mother, but he needed her to know (even if he hadn't told her the details of why and where he needed to return to), "so we will keep this information to ourselves. Have I made myself clear?"

"Of course, Madam Senator," says Coll, like he would never have considered anything else. Sandos and Kavi nod, as do Ffion and Wick, and Finn lets out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. "And I assume this does not impact your decision to have Artorias remain neutral in the war?"

"It does not," Velle says, and Finn frowns.

"Wait — Artorias is neutral? I figured that we would be allied with the New Republic."

"We were, once," Velle says. Her voice has gone very quiet. "But after your father died, and after you…disappeared, I declared Artorias neutral to protect us from future fallout from the war between the First Order and the New Republic."

Finn looks down at his plate. Suddenly he's not hungry anymore. "What happened to him?" he asks. "My father. How did he die?"

All of the warmth seems to go out of the room. Even Sandos's jovial expression — no doubt brought on by the amount of alcohol he's been consuming — dims slightly. Velle's eyes well up with tears, leaving Wick to take her hand in his and take over. "Twenty-four years ago, your father became the Junior Senator of Artorias," he says. "He inherited the position after his father — your grandfather — passed away, just as the First Order started to rise. Shortly after you were born, Felix and the former Senior Senator, Arak Nsubuga, were approached by representatives from the First Order, who wanted to forge an alliance with Artorias. Felix refused, as did Senator Nsubuga."

"He made a speech," Velle says. She sounds like she has a bad head cold. "A good one, denouncing the First Order and announcing our allegiance with the New Republic and the Resistance. And two weeks later, the Stormtroopers came to Galfridian City, and they…they killed him. Arak and his wife ran, as did I. Wick and Ffion got me and you out of the residence before they could kill us too. I was supposed to get to the safe house on the other end of the city, but I was shot." She lifts the hem of her emerald green scarf, and Finn sees old scar tissue on her left shoulder. "And when I awoke, I was in the safe house, and you were gone. We searched for days, but we couldn't find you. And we assumed you were killed in the massacre."

"The Morning Massacre," Finn says, remembering the title from the memorial.

"Yes," Ffion says. "Your mother inherited Felix's position — she was next in the line of succession as his wife — and shortly after, Arak died from medical complications. His wife refused the position, and he put Velle in his will to take over instead of—"

"Instead of me," says Coll. "The Chief of Staff normally takes over if the senator's spouse doesn't want the position, but the Artorian constitution dictates that the Senior Senator has the right to decide who they want to take their position in lieu of death in the line of duty, and he wanted Velle. Your mother took the job, and I became the Junior Senator."

"And I pledged that Artorias would remain neutral for as long as the war went on," Velle says. "I didn't want anyone else to lose their spouses, their children. To suffer the way I had." She turns to Finn, offers a teary smile. "Though I suppose at least some of my suffering was worth it, since it meant you would come back to me."

Finn takes his mother's hand. "I always wanted to," he says. "Always."

Dinner is a less solemn affair, thankfully. Velle tells him stories about his father, how they'd fallen in love almost at first sight, what he was like, and in turn he tells her about Rey, how she'd saved his life and how he'd fallen for her almost at first sight as well. He learns that Wick and Ffion are his godparents, and he likes both of them a lot. They're smart, funny, fiercely loyal. Ffion is the Deputy Chief of Staff, and she works under Wick, who's been working for the Artorian government since he was a teenager. Neither are married, and it's clear that they have feelings for each other that they, for whatever reason, refuse to act on.

Kavi's mostly quiet and Coll keeps asking questions about his time in the First Order, and Sandos gets progressively louder through the evening, telling jokes that don't make much sense and knocking back glass after glass of black ale. By the time dessert is served, he's talking solely to Ffion, leaning close and touching her, and Ffion looks politely uncomfortable by the attention.

"So, Finn," Coll says, and Finn turns to face him. "Did you leave the First Order and then come straight here? How did you know to find your mother?"

"Well," Finn says, and then stops. He could say something about Force visions and Jedi training and Luke Skywalker, but he promised himself he wouldn't mention any of that unless strictly necessary. But now everybody's looking at him, even Velle, and he struggles to come up with an explanation that works around those details. "Well, I—"

"How dare you!"

Everyone's heads swivel around as Ffion jumps up from her spot at the table, her face inflamed with rage as she adjusts the front of her shirt. But before she can say anything else, Wick is striding around Ffion and grabbing Sandos by the collar of his shirt, lifting the man right out of his chair. "How dare you," he snarls. "What gives you the right to lay a hand on the Senior Deputy Chief of Staff? You've been harrassing her since the day you got hired and I refuse to tolerate it any longer, you—"

"Wick!" Velle's on her feet now too, her voice cutting right through Wick's threat. "Release him _now._ That's an order!"

Wick's grip loosens, and he shoves Sandos away from him, right back into the chair. It's hard to tell, but Finn's pretty sure his godfather is embarrassed. "Right," he says quietly. "My apologies, Madam Senator." Then, somewhat less sincerely, "My apologies, Sandos."

"S'alright," Sandos says, swaying. "S'alright." And then he stumbles forward and throws up on the floor, all over Ffion's shoes.

Finn and Kavi swear, and Coll buries his head in his hands. Ffion goes faintly green, like she might throw up as well, and Wick looks like he's refraining from punching Sandos in the face only because it will upset Velle. "Well," he says, the word clipped short from a mixture of anger and disgust. "I believe you've had too much to drink, my friend."

"I agree," Velle says. "Wick, take him up to his quarters."

"Of course, Madam Senator," says Wick, not looking thrilled by this turn of events. "Are you alright, Ffion?"

"Fine," she says. "I'm fine. I just…need to change my shoes." Gingerly, she does so, and one of the maids that had come running at the noise picks them up and starts cleaning up the mess. "Thank you, Adyta. I'll be alright."

Wick nods, and then he takes Sandos none too gently by the arm and leads him out of the room. Ffion leaves with one of the maids, leaving Velle, Finn, Kavi, and Coll alone.

"Well," Velle says, with admirable patience and composure. "I believe we should adjourn for the night. Shall we reconvene for breakfast in the morning?"

"Sounds fine, Madam Senator," says Coll, and Kavi nods. "We've got business of our to attend to."

"Very well." To Finn, she says (in a softer voice), "There's a room available for you. Your old room, if you'd like it."

"I would," Finn says. His voice is suddenly very hoarse. "Yeah, I'd like it."

Velle smiles hesitantly at him. "Come," she says, and puts her hand on his arm. "I'll take you."

* * *

They'd left for the _Finalizer_ at last, and the ship they're taking has a lot of work that needs to be done. It's a First Order cruiser that the Resistance had revamped, but the calcinator's shot to hell and impacting how fast they can travel through hyperspace, so while Paige and Lieutenant Kun and Commander Dameron (the latter of whom she hasn't had a chance to meet yet since they've been so busy) talk strategy, Rose excuses herself and heads to the engine room to fix things.

"Hi there," she says to the engines, which are chugging away semi-smoothly. "I'm Rose. I hear you've been having some trouble. Don't you worry, I'll fix everything." She rolls back her sleeves, moves to the side of the engine and opens a panel. "Let's get you going, huh, baby?"

She's just about done when she hears somebody say, "Any luck there?"

For the second time in a week, Rose startles so badly that she hits her head on the machinery she's fixing. Cursing, she withdraws. There's a man in here with her, maybe Paige's age, wearing a loose white shirt and leather pants and sturdy boots, and he's studying her with curiosity and something like vague amusement. "Hi," she says nervously. "Yeah, the calcinator was broken and I fixed. We should be getting along much faster now."

"Good," he says. "Karé's gonna be pleased to hear that. I didn't know how to tell her that pacing a hole in the floor wasn't going to make the ship fly any faster."

"Oh," Rose says, because she's just realized who she's talking to. "Oh! You're Poe Dameron — _the_ Poe Dameron!"

Poe Dameron sounds amused. " _The_ Poe Dameron?"

Rose wants to bury her head in her hands and never come out. "Sorry. Uh, I work behind pipes all day. Doing talking with Resistance heroes is not my forte." Doing talking. _Smooth, Rosie. Real smooth._ "I mean — I've heard a lot about you, that's all. I'm Rose."

"Yeah, I know." She waits for him to say something like _You're Paige's sister_ , but what he says instead is, "You're the mechanic Colonel Kanan recommended. Glad you could come along."

"Wouldn't miss it," Rose says, and then instantly regrets it. Here Poe Dameron is, aiming to rescue one of his friends from the bowels of the First Order, and she's treating it like a fun weekend getaway to Coruscant. "I, uh. We — we should be at the _Finalizer_ by morning now that this is fixed."

"Good," Poe Dameron says, but instead of turning on his heel and leaving, he takes a seat on one of the available benches. He's much more socially savvy than she is, so she tentatively follows suit, taking a seat on the floor and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I was glad we got you. Colonel Kanan says you've been doing good work."

Rose's face heats up. "Oh," she says stupidly. "Thanks." _Get it together, Rosie, come on._ "Yeah, I've been working on engines since I was seven. I mean, being in the Resistance is different from doing tune-ups and oil changes, but…anything I can do to help, you know. Kinda felt like I _had_ to go on this mission."

"I can relate," Poe Dameron says quietly. She's glad he said something, because she'd been thoroughly worried that she'd put her foot in her mouth again. "It's my fault Pava's even in this situation. It should've been me that got captured by the First Order — I was supposed to get the map, but I broke my wrist and General Organa grounded me."

"Oh," Rose says, unsure of what to say or do. "I'm…I'm sorry." She bites her lip. "But…you're coming for her now. And I'm sure she won't have any hard feelings about the — the switch-up."

Poe Dameron snorts. "The switch-up?"

"You know, 'cause you were supposed to go in her place, and…" Rose is blushing even more now. Why does she even bother talking at all? "Told you. Talking to Resistance heroes is not my strong suit."

"I think you're doing alright," Poe Dameron says, and the strangest part is, he seems to mean it. Half the pilots on D'Qar don't give Rose the time of day, but Poe Dameron seems…nice. Definitely not the hotshot flies-by-the-seat-of-his-pants flyboy she'd thought he'd be. "So why did you volunteer for this mission?"

Rose chokes on her next breath. "What?"

"Well, we've gone through my survivor's guilt," Poe Dameron says with a quicksilver grin. "Might as well go through your motivation too. It's only fair."

Rose's eyes drop. "I guess so," she says softly. "I, well. I mean, it's stupid, it's nothing noble like your motivation. I just wanted to…to prove my worth."

"Why?"

Rose lifts her head, surprised. "Do you not know?" she says, and he shakes his head. Huh. Leave it to the Force to stick her on a mission with the one pilot that doesn't know her backstory. It's actually kind of nice. "I'm…I'm from Hosnian Prime." Her next breath is shaky. "I was visiting Paige for the weekend when the First Order blew up the Hosnian System. My parents, my home — it's all gone now."

"I'm sorry," Poe Dameron says. Quiet, but sincere. "I'm…that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Rose's next breath is decidedly unsteady. "But, yeah. I've been here ever since. Working behind pipes, trying to prove my worth. People whisper about me all the time behind my back, you know, thinking I can't hear them. And I'm sick of the pity. I wanted to come along to prove that I'm more than the Resistance's charity case. More than Paige Tico's sister." She can't look at Poe Dameron anymore. She doesn't want to see the pity that's no doubt in his expression. "Not exactly a noble motivation, huh."

"Maybe not," Poe Dameron concedes. "But you're here. And you're willing to do whatever it takes to save Pava, and win the Resistance another battle." She looks up just in time to see him smile. "I'd say that makes you just as much of a hero as the rest of us. Maybe even more because you finally fixed that stupid calcinator."

That startles a laugh out of her. "Has it been giving you problems for a while?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Poe Dameron says, and he's laughing now too. "I think it's been broken since I learned to fly."

"Wow. That's…a while."

Poe Dameron grins. Or Poe, rather. She can probably stop full-naming him in her head now. "So tell me," he says, almost conspiratorial. "What's the deal with Paige and Lieutenant Connix? Are they a thing?"

"Not for Paige's lack of trying," Rose grumbles, but she's grinning now. "At first it was cute. Now I kind of want to lock them in a supply closet until they confess their feelings for each other."

"Want in on the betting pool? I think it's up to a hundred credits by now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. We pilots take our entertainment where we can get it." Poe stands up, and holds out a hand to her, and she lets him pull her to her feet. "Come on. We should probably go over the plan again before we split up the piloting shifts."

"Okay," Rose says, unable to conceal her smile.

She's made a friend. Her first one in all her time in the Resistance.

She's on a roll.

* * *

Finn wakes up slowly the next morning, warm and content. These beds in the Residence are the softest he's ever felt, better than the ones in the base on D'Qar and miles better than the ones in the First Order. He'd called Rey the previous night, and they'd spoken briefly before the connection had fizzled out, but apparently she and Skywalker had mostly made amends, which is good. He's glad that she decided to give Skywalker another chance.

Suddenly, a scream tears through the hall, like a piece of fabric ripping into two shredded pieces. Finn's out of bed before he even remembers moving, and he quickly puts his clothes on before racing down the hall toward the source of the noise.

He doesn't have to go far. There's a crowd gathering by a room at the end of the hall, maids and other workers that he doesn't recognize, and he pushes his way through the people and into the room. Standing in the middle of the room are Velle, Coll, Kavi, and Ffion, and they're all staring at something on the floor. At Sandos Lidden, who's lying spread-eagled on the rug, his eyes glazed over, his jaw slack — and a silver pocket knife embedded in his chest.

* * *

 _Dun dun dunnnn…_

 _Stay tuned for Chapter VIII, in which the culprit is arrested, Rose does some quick thinking, and Pava is finally found._

 _If you're interested, the fancasts for my OCs are as follows:_

 _Angela Bassett as Velle Amaty Solbourne, Senior Senator of Artorias  
_ _Amitabh Bachchan as Wick Mandae, Chief of Staff to the Senior Senator  
_ _Salma Hayek as Ffion Lapara, Deputy Chief of Staff to the Senior Senator  
_ _Rob Lowe as Collem "Coll" Ryzka, Junior Senator of Artorias  
_ _Giancarlo Esposito as Kavi Monna, Chief of Staff to the Junior Senator  
_ _Bruno Bichir as Sandos Lidden, Deputy Chief of Staff to the Junior Senator_


	8. Chapter VIII

"We've got a problem," Karé says.

Poe's on his feet before he even registers moving, heading to the cockpit with Rose and Paige right behind him. They've been traveling all night to the _Finalizer,_ and from what Poe recalls before he'd gone to sleep, they're only a few jumps away from their destination. And of course _now_ things decide to stop going smoothly. Perfect. "What's the matter?"

"We're close to the Finalizer," Karé says, "but the clearance codes from our intel aren't going to get us through the security shields undetected."

While Poe tries to find a sentence without any expletives in it, Paige says, "Can we steal the First Order's clearance codes?"

"No, they're biohexencrypted and rescrambled every hour." Karé runs a hand through her hair, and tufts of it stick straight up in the front. "What're we supposed to do now?"

Poe lets out a heavy breath. He's got an idea, but just thinking about it makes a cold, numbing terror spread through his body, spiraling outward from his heart. _Shove down your fear, Dameron. Tell them the plan._ "There's an escape pod attached to the southern end of the ship," he says, and Paige and Karé turn to look at him. Rose is examining the controls. "I can — I'll pilot it away from here and draw their fire. You guys can go and save Pava, and—"

"And you'll what?" Karé snaps. "Die?"

"If that's what it takes, then—"

"No." Karé's voice is low and shaky and thrumming with something not unlike anger when she says, " _No._ Absolutely not. You are not pulling a heroic sacrifice while the rest of us run around inside the ship like headless chickens trying to find Jess. Damn it, Poe, what is it with you and these blaze-of-glory suggestions? What happened to 'together or not at all?'"

"We don't have any other options, Karé! And if I die to ensure that the rest of you will be safe, then…" Karé's expression is darkening like a storm cloud and even Paige looks ready to join the fray, and Poe's words trail off into truth. "So many people have died because I wasn't ready to make the sacrifice," he says quietly. "Pava took my spot on that mission. Markus Dinoa took the shot meant for me. Snap got stabbed because I wasn't fast enough. The odds are against us, and I'm not going to let anybody else sacrifice themselves for me."

"And we aren't going to let you sacrifice yourself for us," Karé says. "Or for the cause. We've lost enough people. We aren't going to lose you too. Not if we can avoid it." She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly. "There has to be another solution. One that doesn't end with somebody on this ship dying."

"Actually," Rose says tentatively, and he and Karé and Paige turn to look at her. "I think there is one. A way to get through. We can slice through the shields."

Paige frowns. "That'll take a codebreaker, Rosie. None of us is a codebreaker."

"I know," she says. "But, uh. Mama taught me a thing or two back home, and I think I can do it." At their surprised stares, she quickly says, "It's worth a shot. I just — I just want to try, that's all. Unless you guys think that I shouldn't, then we can…"

For someone who'd claimed 'doing talking' with Resistance heroes not to be her forte, Poe thinks it had taken an immense amount of bravery for Rose to even speak at all. And even if he hadn't talked to Colonel Kanan about why she'd recommended Rose, he'd seen her fix the calcinator that had been broken for as long as he could remember. If anyone here can find a way to slice through the shields, it's her. "I think you should try it," Poe says. "You're right. It's a better plan than what I suggested."

"Especially since the best case scenario ends with all of us coming out alive," Paige says. Karé nods. "What do you need us to do?"

* * *

"How dare you!"

After finding Sandos's body, the ASRA residence guards had been dispatched to track down Wick, whose knife had been found embedded in Sandos's chest. Finn, Velle, Coll, Ffion, and Kavi had tracked Wick down to his office, and Wick's expression had gone from confused to grieved to enraged when he realized what they were accusing him of. Coll, however, refuses to let Wick get a single word in. "Yes," he snaps. "We dare."

"You can't seriously believe I was responsible for what happened to Sandos!"

"Are we expected to believe anything else?" Coll retorts. "You were responsible for dropping him off in his quarters last night. Your custom-designed pocket knife was found in his chest. Every piece of this puzzle points to you, Mandae, and I demand a confession of guilt before justice is done."

"You're out of your mind!" Wick crosses the room and gets right in Coll's face, his fists clenched at his sides. "And you will receive no confession of guilt from me because I'm _innocent!_ Why would I kill Sandos? What would I stand to gain from that besides your contempt?"

Kavi sneers. "Perhaps an easier road to gaining the affections of your Deputy Chief of Staff?"

A flush spreads across Ffion's face, and she looks down, away from the spectacle. Wick looks momentarily devastated, and then his expression hardens. "You son of a bitch," he snarls. "Even if I were to seek the affections of Ms. Lapara, I would _never_ attempt to do so by murdering that — that buffoon! For all I know he stole my knife off me and tripped onto it in a drunken stupor before passing out on the floor!"

"We all saw your temper last night when he put his hands on her," Coll says. "It's not so far-fetched to imagine him saying something similar when you were alone, and you losing your temper in a way you couldn't control—"

"I'll show you losing my temper, you bastard—"

Finn knows what's going to happen a split second before it does, and he jumps into the fray, grabbing Wick and yanking him back, preventing him from punching Coll's lights out. In turn, Kavi grabs Coll around the stomach and holds him in place, grunting from the effort.

"Velle," Wick says desperately, twisting in Finn's arms to face the senator. "Velle, please don't tell me you believe him. You know I — you know I'd never do this. You know that, don't you?"

Velle takes a long breath, letting it out slowly. She looks so much older than her years, weary like she's been fighting for so long and all she wants is to rest. "I know," she says. "I…I know you would never do something like this without good reason, Wick."

"Good reason?" Coll repeats incredulously. He looks on the verge of an apoplectic fit. "Don't stand there and speak to us of possible good reason! My Deputy Chief of Staff was _murdered!_ I want something to be _done_ about this, Velle!"

"I am not the judge and jury and executioner," Velle snaps, looking as though she is trying desperately to keep herself together. "And neither are you, Coll. We will ensure that Wick has a fair trial, and is allowed to defend himself. In the meantime…" She steels herself. There are tears in her eyes, and it makes Finn's heart hurt. "Wick, you will have to be kept under guard."

Wick looks like Velle had stabbed him in the chest. He glances around the room as if looking for allies; upon finding none, he seems to deflate. Slowly, he nods. "I understand, Madam Senator."

He doesn't put up a fight when the guards escort him out of the room, and the door has scarcely shut behind him when Velle lets out a tiny, barely-there sob. Ffion crosses the room to envelope her in a hug and help her to a chair. Finn wants to soothe his mother too, but his mind is racing too much for him to focus on anything else.

If there's anything that his time in the First Order and his brief Jedi training has taught him, it's how to tell whether someone is lying. Despite the wealth of evidence against him, Wick hadn't been lying. He hadn't killed Sandos Lidden. His godfather is innocent; Finn knows it. The only question is proving it.

This isn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

* * *

Rey opens her eyes to darkness.

Logically, she knows that she's still physically in the valley on Ahch-To, with Skywalker — Luke, she supposes, since she isn't ready to call him Dad or anything like it yet — beside her. With the desire to find her family finally sated, she'd woken up that morning determined to succeed where she had last failed: finding balance within the Force, and therefore within herself.

And now she's standing in an endless dark space, surrounded by mirrors. There's no one and nothing here; the space is silent and her reflection goes on and on into infinity. She takes a hesitant step forward, steeling herself. _I will not let darkness sway me._

"Fancy seeing you here."

Rey's head snaps up. Standing before her is...her. Another Rey, identical down to the last inch. But this Rey is paler, more drawn and serious. She wears a black cloak over her shoulders, and her hair is in a severe bun, and she'd spoken in a soft purr, dangerous and almost seductive. She looks strong, and Rey knows it's because of the darkness. _But I'm stronger than that. I have to be._

"Are you?" Dark Rey moves like a snake, smoothly slithering forward; her eyes fixated on Rey like a predator watching her prey. "How can you be strong without the Dark Side, Rey? I represent what you can become. What you are."

Instinct makes her take a step back. "You aren't me."

"But I am," Dark Rey breathes, almost hungry-sounding. "I am you, and you are me. We are one. United by the desire for answers that only the Dark Side can provide."

"I have all the answers I need."

"And are they enough?" Dark Rey circles her, and the temperature around them seems to drop twenty degrees, enough that she feels shivers go up her spine. "Are they enough to protect those that you love before the First Order slaughters them?"

"I…" Tears trickle down Rey's face, unbidden, at the memory of Kylo Ren killing Han, of striking down Finn. She shakes her head fervently. "I won't let that happen."

"You are powerless unless you give in to your inner darkness." Her voice is a whisper now. "It is within you, as it is within us all. Let it rule you as it did Kylo Ren. You will become more powerful than you ever imagined, and can protect those you love."

And for a moment, Rey lets herself imagine it. Giving into the power of the Dark Side, letting it course through her veins like it had promised to do during her fight with Kylo Ren and her vision of her mother. She could strike down Kylo Ren and Snoke and the First Order, and save her friends and family from ever being hurt again.

"No," she says hoarsely. Just getting the word out takes everything she has.

"No?" Dark Rey scoffs. "And how do you intend to save those you love without the Dark Side of the Force?"

"Because I'm a survivor." She can feel the words fill her with warmth, beating back the harsh cold of the darkness. She'd doubted Maz Kanata and Finn when they'd told her that, but she knows it to be true. She's strong. She's a survivor. No matter what promises it makes her, she will not let herself succumb to the darkness. "And I will protect the people I love because of the Light in me."

"You can't do that," Dark Rey snarls. She's backing away now, terror in her eyes despite the bravado in her tone and the sneer twisting her mouth. "You won't succeed. You're _nothing."_

"No," she retorts, feeling strong for the first time since opening her eyes."I'm _Rey."_

She lunges forward, a green lightsaber suddenly appearing in her hand as she brings it down over Dark Rey's chest and—

Her eyes shoot open and she bends over, gasping for air. She's still on Ahch-To. She's out of the endless nothingness, and she feels…like a weight she hadn't even known was there had been lifted off her shoulders. Balanced. That's how she feels.

"Rey?" That's Skywalker — Luke — next to her, peering over at her, concerned. His hand is hesitant on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Rey lets out a long breath. "Yes," she says at last. "I think so."

* * *

Rose has never been more nervous in her life. Here at last is the opportunity to prove that she isn't the Resistance's charity case, but if she screws up, she'll blow the fate of the whole mission and risk sentencing Jessika Pava to a gruesome death. With that in mind, it's a miracle that her hands remain steady while she tries to remember everything her mother ever taught her about codebreaking.

"Cloaking our approach," she says. Her fingers feel numb, and she can taste copper in the back of her throat, a sure sign that she's going to throw up. She can feel Karé and Paige and Poe's eyes on her as she toggles with the switches on the controls. "We should be off their scopes." She reaches above her head and pushes at the buttons connecting to the compressor before returning to the main console. "Then we slice a slit in their shield…" Holding her breath, she swipes her finger on the screen that shows the First Order's security — and thank the Force, they're in the clear. They're in the _Finalizer's_ orbit, and nobody's firing on them. She did it. "Blippity bloppity bloop, and we slip right through."

"Nice job, Tico," Karé says, clearly relieved. Paige hugs her, and Poe claps her on the back. "Let's do this."

Poe directs their ship through the southern end of the base, which houses a near-empty motor pool consisting of old cruisers and galactic dust — and no Stormtroopers or First Order personnel, so that works in their favor. The Resistance had given them First Order uniforms so they could disguise themselves as officers, and Rose kind of like the blue number that she's wearing. Even if the hat keeps messing up her curls.

"Okay," Poe says, and everybody gathers around him. "Mitaka's intel told us they've been keeping Pava prisoner here." He points at a spot on the hologram hovering over his wrist. "And we're here." The two spots he points at are about an inch apart. "We'll go around back corners, break Pava out, come back here, and leave with nobody any wiser."

"Lead on, Black Leader," Paige says.

The four of them sneak out of the semi-abandoned motor pool and down the hall, Poe in the lead. Miracle of miracles, they don't attract any unwanted attention from the Stormtroopers and actual officers wandering the halls, and soon they've arrived at where the First Order keeps their prisoners. Where Jessika Pava is being kept.

There are two Stormtroopers guarding the doors, and Poe nods at them when they salute him. "You're dismissed," he says. "We'll take over from here."

One of them tilts their head to the side. It's hard to tell with the helmet and all, but Rose is pretty sure they're confused. "Does General Kilson know about this, sir?"

"Would we be here if General Kilson didn't?" Karé counters. Her answer — and the fact that her expression is as serious as sin — seems to convince the Stormtroopers, and they head off down the hall. Poe and Karé immediately block the door while Paige starts cracking the electronic locks. That had been her specialty when she'd worked in their father's garage, and sure enough, she cracks the code in no time.

Karé pushes the door open with a creak that makes Rose want to flinch, and the four of them walk inside the small room. It isn't what Rose had been expecting, but it's definitely not any better. The entire room smells of something musty, and her stomach roils, but she's not about to turn back now.

There's a bed shoved against the wall; more of a cot, really. A figure curled into the fetal position lies slumped on top of it, motionless. From what she can see, the figure is wearing a faded brown shirt and sooty trousers, and is pale, with shaggy, greasy black hair.

None of them move. None of them blink.

And then Karé shoves past them all, falling to her knees beside the cot as she takes Jessika Pava's hand. "Jess?" she whispers. "Jess, can you hear me?"

For a terrifying second, Rose thinks that their intel is wrong, and that Pava's dead and gone — but then Pava stirs and sits up in a flash, eyes wide with terror as she flinches back, retracting her hand. "Who's there?" Her voice trembles as she looks around the room, struggling to focus on Karé through the darkness. "Who are you?"

Karé takes Pava's hand again. "Someone who loves you."

Tears trickle down Pava's cheeks. "Karé," she breathes, like Karé's name is a lifeline. A prayer. "Is it really you?"

Karé's laugh is wet, full of joy. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, Jess, it's me."

"Karé." Pava dissolves into tears, throwing her arms around Karé, who embraces her just as tightly, stroking her back through her tears. Then she pulls back, cupping Karé's face in her hands and kissing her — and then retreating again, her face red. "I'm sorry," she says. "I just thought — I thought I'd never see you again, and I had to do that. I had to—"

Karé cuts her off with a kiss that's so enthusiastic that under different circumstances Rose would be tempted to ask if they need a room alone. "Never apologize," she whispers. "I love you."

Pava's grin is so full of life and relief that it almost breaks Rose's heart. "I love you too."

"Hey," Poe says, snapping Karé and Pava out of their each-other-induced trance. "Not to break this up, but we're kinda on a schedule here."

"Poe." Pava's grin, if possible, grows even wider as a blushing Karé helps her to her feet. She's unsteady, but remains upright as she hugs Poe, clapping him on the back. Rose ups her estimation of Pava's strength. "Good to see you."

"You too. I'm just sorry we couldn't come for you sooner." Poe withdraws, gesturing at Rose and Paige. "Jessika Pava, this is Rose Tico and her sister, Paige Tico. We couldn't have gotten here without 'em."

"Good to meet you."

"Good to meet you too," Rose says, inwardly glowing at the fact that Poe Dameron introduced her to Jessika Pava before he introduced Paige. Maybe she really is one of them now. "Come on, we've gotta get out of here before anyone notices you're gone."

"What the helmet are you doing?"

All of them whirl around. Standing in the open doorway — and blocking their way of escape — are two Stormtroopers. Both Troopers are holding blasters, and the blasters are aimed directly at Poe and Rose's heads.

 _Great. Da-da-da, we're dead._

* * *

 _Those of you who follow me on tumblr thescavengerandthestormtrooper know my opinion of The Rise of Skywalker already, so I'll keep it brief: it sucks. But I'm determined to finish this fic (as well as its upcoming sequel) and end the sequel trilogy my way, in a way true to the characters we know and love. Happy Holidays to you guys, and thanks for sticking around for so long. 3_

 _Stay tuned for Chapter IX, in which connections are forged, a daring escape is made, Kylo Ren's plans are revealed, and the First Order arrives on Artorias._


	9. Chapter IX

"What the helmet are you doing?"

Rose's entire world goes into a flat spin at those words, and she's sure that she's gone pale enough to rival the color of the Stormtroopers' helmets. Paige is as silent as the grave, and she can hear Karé's quick intake of breath as she tightens her grip on Pava. Poe swallows hard. "Moving the prisoner," he says, trying for an authoritative tone and falling a little short. "We're moving the prisoner."

"We weren't notified of that," says the Trooper on the right. His grip on his blaster has not faltered. "Where is the prisoner being moved to?"

"That's above your security clearance."

"That's not an answer." The Trooper shifts his blaster up higher, and Rose's entire life flashes before her eyes. "Only Stormtroopers are authorized to move prisoners from one place to another."

"We've got authorization from General Kilson," Rose says, remembering that's the name the Stormtroopers from earlier had used.

The Trooper exchanges a quick look with his companion, and Rose is wondering if that's all it'll take for them to get away with this when the Trooper turns back to face them. "You've got authorization?" he says. He closes the door behind them — their only route of escape — leaving them all trapped in this tomb of a cell together, a challenge thrown at their feet. "Show me."

Before Rose or Poe or Paige or Karé can come up with an explanation for their lack of proof of authorization, the Trooper on the left — who has stayed silent through this line of questioning — suddenly says, apropos of nothing, "Are you with the Resistance?"

Even though his voice is muffled by his helmet, Rose is startled by how young he sounds: he could be her age, maybe a little older. So had his companion, come to think of it. And he's…he's lowering his weapon. He doesn't want to shoot them; she can tell. "Yes," she says. She can feel Karé and Paige glaring daggers into her skull, can hear Poe say her name under his breath. Pava, too far gone in her own pain and terror, doesn't make a sound. "We're with the Resistance."

The Trooper on the left nods, like he'd expected the answer all along. Then, almost hesitantly, he says, "Can I ask you something?"

Rose glances at Poe, bewildered that she's actually having a civil conversation with a Stormtrooper while all of their lives are at stake. "Okay."

"Was FN-2187 a Stormtrooper?" The Trooper beside him is so still a gust of wind could knock him flat on his back; tense, serious, holding onto his blaster like it's a lifeline in a storm. "We heard he was. Was he?"

Rose feels like she's treading on the line of something far deeper than the question implies, like the sparks of a revolution will flicker out if she denies this. The pressure is as stifling as gravity, so it takes some time for the words to leave her mouth. "Yes," she finally says. "He was."

"But he's not anymore," Poe says, defensive of his friend even from across the galaxy. "His name is Finn and he's one of us now."

The Trooper glances between Poe and Rose one more time, silently surveying them from under his helmet. Then he abruptly lowers his blaster to his side and uses his free hand to take his helmet off, shocking Rose out of her wits. He's as young as his voice had suggested: twenty-three or twenty-four, her age. He's human, with dark hair buzzed short and thick eyebrows and intelligent brown eyes that stare directly into her own, and for a split second her heart forgets how to beat. She's never seen a Trooper without a helmet before. "Good," he says. "That's what I hoped you'd say."

"Slip," says the Trooper next to him, barely audible. Slip. Is that his name? His designation? "What're you thinking?"

Rose knows the answer before the first Trooper even opens his mouth, but it doesn't stop her from recoiling in shock for the second time in less than a minute when he says, "We need to help them escape."

"Why?" Pava's raspy voice comes out of nowhere, and everyone turns to stare at her. Karé tightens her grip on her girlfriend, like she's afraid the Stormtroopers are going to take Pava away from her. "Why would you help us?"

The Trooper doesn't even waste a second. "Because it's the right thing to do." He turns to the Trooper next to him and says, "You know Finn's story, Zeroes. How he did what was right even though it went against everything he believed in. Now we've got a chance to do the same. We have to take the chance."

Zeroes curses and wrenches off his helmet, revealing dark skin, a set jaw, and a healed, lighter scar on his right cheek. He looks a little older than Slip; twenty-five or so, if Rose had to guess. "Slip, we can't," he hisses, keeping his voice low. It's like he's forgotten they're even there. "We can't throw our plans out the bay window on a whim."

Rose blinks once, then twice. "You…you had plans? To go against the First Order?"

Zeroes scrubs a hand down his face, looking as though he'd like nothing more than to bang his head against the wall until he passes out. "Yeah," he says tightly. He holsters his blaster at his side, and Rose can finally breathe again. "We did."

"We were trying to spread Finn's story among the Troopers we trusted," Slip says. Where Zeroes is closed off and cautious, Slip is an open book. "We wanted to organize a mass defection."

"And now _you_ want to help them escape," Zeroes retorts. "Like that'll even work."

"It could work," Slip says, insistent. "If we help them. You know it's the right thing to do, Zeroes. What's the point of talking up Finn and leaving the First Order to the other Troopers if we don't take the chance to help the Resistance when we can?"

"Just for the record," Rose says, raising her hand slightly, "I vote for you helping us."

Zeroes ignores her in favor of glaring at Slip. "You know, I liked you a lot better when you kept to yourself."

"Zeroes." Slip's voice is somewhere between serious and pleading. "Come on. Please."

Rose holds her breath, praying for a miracle — but it turns out she doesn't have to pray for long. Zeroes exhales sharply through his nose and gives a tight nod. "Fine," he says shortly. "You're right. We'll help you. The odds of success are practically in the shitter, but we'll help you."

"I've seen worse odds," Poe says, and Zeroes scoffs.

"Not like these you haven't, flyboy. Where's your ship? How'd you get here?"

"We parked it in the landing bay," Paige says after a moment's pause. Clearly she's just as stunned as Rose is that this conversation is even taking place at all. "On the southern side of the base."

"It'll be guarded by now," Slip says. To Zeroes, he says, "Which squadron's got southern bay duty?"

"Delta." Just from the matching grimaces on Slip and Zeroes's faces, Rose knows that Delta Squadron (or someone on Delta Squadron, at any rate) is bad news, and she keeps her mouth shut. "If you want to get out of here alive, you'll have to commandeer a ship from the northern bay." To Poe, Zeroes says, "Can you fly a starfighter?"

"I can fly anything."

Something that's half a smile tugs at the corner of Zeroes's mouth. "Alright then," he says. To Slip, he says, "We're doing this?"

"We're doing this," Slip says, and puts his helmet back on. Zeroes follows suit. Rose, just for something to do, adjusts the hat balanced jauntily on her curls. "We've got to work together on this. If we work together, we can get you out of here alive. You in?"

Rose doesn't hesitate to nod, and Poe sums up everybody's thoughts. "Yeah," he says. "We're in. Let's do this."

* * *

Sometimes, Snoke thinks back to a time before the First Order. To an era of Jedi and Sith, of endless bloody wars fought by man-made pawns while democracy drowned behind painted-on smiles. A time where few had been entrusted with the truth of the Force: that the powers the Dark Side offered were to be desired, not turned away from. A more sophisticated time.

He hadn't assisted the rise of the Empire, nor had he been a part of its glory days; he'd preferred to stay in the shadows, manipulating strings behind the scenes. It was only when Luke Skywalker had won that Snoke emerged, announcing himself as a student of the Jedi from the Old Republic days, one that was more than willing to help Skywalker train the next generation of Jedi and teach them the ways of the Force. He hadn't expected Skywalker to react with such ferocity when he'd caught on to Snoke's scheme — nor had he expected to lose the duel that had ensued.

It wasn't until young Ben Solo had sought him out, desiring to know more of what the Darkness offered — desiring to follow in his grandfather's footsteps — that Snoke tasted victory again. He molded Ben Solo into Kylo Ren, applauding his turn from the teachings of his uncle, and manipulated the right people into founding the First Order while Snoke taught the Knights of Ren everything they needed to know. But now the Resistance is proving to be an admirable opponent, and Snoke knows they must strike back if the Dark Side is to reign supreme. If he is to have his revenge, and take down Skywalker and the Light Side once and for all.

"Kylo Ren," says Snoke, reclining in his throne as Kylo Ren kneels before him. "Close your eyes. Reach into the Force. What do you feel?"

"Turmoil," Kylo Ren says, his voice slow as though he is in a trance. "Fear. Power, waiting to be taken. Power that we must take."

"Very good," Snoke says, and he senses pride emanating from his apprentice before it is quickly extinguished. Good. "With the New Republic crippled, the Resistance lacks allies. Your mother," for he knows the mention of his student's past always makes him flinch in a most satisfying way, "knows that the Resistance must have allies if they are to survive — just as we have fortified the First Order by partnering with the planets Mircalla, Ithaka, Veriyar, and Iywei." Perhaps 'partner' is too strong of a word for describing planets they infiltrated by force, but no matter. "Where do you imagine they will go next?"

"What of Skywalker, Master? We still need to kill him — I'll kill him, I'll not let you down, I'll—"

"Silence." The word comes out softly, barely audible, but deadly all the same, and Kylo Ren falls silent. He may be a man now, but the impatient, petulant boy with an affinity for tantrums when he does not get his way shines through at the most inopportune of times. "You fail, as always, to see the larger picture; your bloodthirst blinds you to the obvious solution. Where do you imagine the Resistance will go for allies?"

Kylo Ren takes a breath, muffled by the apparatus in his helmet. "To the planets that have declared themselves neutral."

"So you do understand," Snoke says. "And we must take that opportunity away before they realize they need it."

"And if the neutral planets refuse to ally with us," Kylo Ren says, "then they will be the first victims of the Last Resort."

Ah, the pleasure of having an intelligent subordinate! Kylo Ren may require a little careful handling now and then, but he is worth the work. Usually. "Yes," Snoke says, and lets a dark smile curve the remains of his mouth, ignoring the pain that the action brings. "With nowhere to turn, with our might growing more and more by the day, the Resistance will be vanquished, and Skywalker will be vanquished with it."

"Which planet should be first?"

Snoke thinks back to another time, this one more recent. To an upstart senator daring to criticize the First Order and its methods, to a planet whose children made up a sizable portion of the Stormtrooper ranks, whose government was more corrupt than it seemed at first glance. The smile breaks loose, spreading across his face. "Artorias," he says. "Send Ambassador Quill there with a clear message for their Senator: loyalty will be rewarded, and rebellion will be crushed. By seeing this plan through, you will have fulfilled your destiny."

* * *

They'd decided to split up, to make the odds of their escape slightly more manageable. Zeroes had taken Poe and Paige to the northern bay, to show them where the TIE Fighters were, and now Slip is taking Rose, Karé, and Pava there too. The more Rose thinks about it, the impossibility of this whole situation kind of works in their favor. No one will suspect Stormtroopers of trying to help a prisoner escape, because that sort of thing just doesn't happen. Officers and Troopers alike pass them by, and nobody says a word. This might actually work.

A group of officers approach them as they get closer to the northern bay, and Rose tenses. She's on one side of Pava, who's been handcuffed and told to look defeated, and Karé is on her other side, with Slip on Rose's left, functioning as a guide. And in this case, a voice to Rose's fears. "Stay calm, stay calm."

Rose swallows as the officers draw near — and walk on by. "I'm calm," she says. "I am so calm. Calmest I've ever been."

"Yeah," Slip says, releasing a ragged breath. "Right. Yeah, me too."

Finally, they arrive at the northern landing bay — which, from what Rose can see from the entrance, is bustling with activity of all sorts, and houses so many ships she's never seen before that it'd take an eternity to examine them all. She'd probably be more excited about the idea if her heart hadn't decided to strangle her from the inside at the sight of Poe, Paige, and Zeroes waiting for them by the entrance.

Slip seems just as terrified as he gestures for Poe, Paige, and Zeroes to follow him and Rose and Karé and Pava into an abandoned corridor. "I thought you were going to wait by the starfighters," he hisses, clearly struggling to keep his voice down. "What happened?"

"They're being guarded by a couple of officers," Zeroes says, and Rose fights the urge to swear. "What now?"

"Do they have weapons?"

"No," Zeroes says. "They're both unarmed. Probably fresh from the Academy, but they won't be persuaded by anything a Trooper has to say." He pauses, looking Slip over. "Don't tell me you're thinking about BP-32."

"I'm thinking about BP-32," Slip says, and Zeroes swears. "Unless you have another idea?"

Karé looks ready to throw her hands in the air from pure exasperation and terror. "What the hell is BP-32?"

"A battleprep scenario," Zeroes says. "And your saving grace, if we pull it off."

"It's worth a shot," Rose says, trying not to panic too outwardly. "Whatever it is. Lead the way."

They enter the northern landing bay as a group: Pava in the middle, with Karé and Paige flanking her, Poe and Rose behind them, Slip and Zeroes leading the way. Nobody spares them a passing glance as they make their way to the starfighters — which, true to Zeroes's word, are guarded by two younger officers with grey uniforms and suspicious furrows in their brows. The one on the right addresses Slip and Zeroes with nothing but contempt in his voice. "What do you want?"

"That starfighter behind you," Slip says.

His candor takes both officers aback. "And what makes you think you can just take a starfighter?"

"This," Zeroes says, and shoots the officer in the head. Slip shoots the other one, and then Zeroes whirls around to fire at one of the panels on the wall behind them. The latter sets off a screeching alarm and causes a steel partition to glide sideways out of the wall, blocking anyone from coming after them. For now.

"That wall won't last long," Zeroes shouts, and sure enough, Rose can see the partition starting to tremble from the blows no doubt raining down on it from the opposite side. She gives it a minute before the partition comes down, maybe less. "Come on!"

They reach the biggest starfighter of the bunch — the only one remotely capable of housing all of them, located at the very edge of the bay — in no time at all. There's a ladder going up to the ship, and Karé doesn't waste a second before telling Pava to hold onto her; when Pava's secure, Karé climbs up the ladder and into the ship , and Paige is right behind.

"You next," Poe tells Zeroes, who shakes his head.

"This escape's only for you. We're staying here."

"What?" A numbing, fearful cold is spreading through her body, outweighing even the terror of this entire situation. "No, you have to come with us to D'Qar; there's room, we can all squeeze in—"

"We've still got work to do here," Slip says, and Rose is just about to argue with him that they can't run a pro-Finn campaign in the First Order if they get killed for helping the Resistance when an explosion rocks the entire landing bay, and everything goes black.

* * *

"—wake up! Damn you, flyboy, wake up, come on!"

Poe's head is swimming, and he feels like one of the target practice dummies in one of the Resistance hangars, but even when he's groggy and aching all over, he recognizes an order when he hears one. Still, it's all he can do to keep from flinching when he opens his eyes and sees a Stormtrooper helmet half an inch from his face. "Zeroes?"

"Yeah," Zeroes says, relieved. Or maybe livid. Or maybe both. "That's me. Now get up, come on!"

Zeroes grabs Poe by the hand and yanks him to his feet, and Poe stumbles, taking a second to get his bearings. They're still on the _Finalizer,_ and the First Order tried to take down that partition by blowing it up. The aftershock of the explosion had carried through all the way to their side, apparently, because there's debris everywhere, and half of a broken starfighter lies where Poe had been standing not two minutes before. He can hear Stormtroopers surging toward them through the jagged hole in the partition, and Poe lets Zeroes shove him toward the ladder to their starfighter, which has escaped the explosion miraculously intact.

Rose has just disappeared into the ship when Poe reaches the ladder, and Slip grabs Zeroes by the shoulder. "Get him up and let's get out of here!"

Poe's just started climbing when he hesitates, turns to look back at Slip and Zeroes. "Look, are you sure you don't—"

"We'll be fine," Zeroes snaps, not unkindly. Something in his posture softens. "We'll be fine, flyboy. Get out of here while you still can."

Poe wants to argue — wants to save Slip and Zeroes from what will happen if they get caught — but Zeroes repeats, louder this time, _"Go,"_ and Poe climbs up the ladder, jumping into the cockpit of the starfighter just as a blaster bolt sails by his head.

"Where's Slip and Zeroes?"

"They aren't coming," Poe says to Pava, sliding into the pilot's seat while he talks. His hands are shaking, and Rose's face is streaked with tears. Through the windshield he can see Zeroes and Slip taking off into another hallway, and a group of Stormtroopers chasing them while the rest stay behind to take fire at the starfighter. He turns the engines on, for once not pausing to revel in the familiar thrum. "Come on. Let's get out of here while we still can."

* * *

Slip's done a lot of stupidly reckless things today (freeing the prisoner and shooting those officers being the main two) but convincing Zeroes to separate to lessen their chances of being caught has to take the cake. And Zeroes hadn't argued with him, just gave him a tight nod before taking off down one hall, and Slip had no choice but to take off down the other. He's running as fast as he can, the only thought in his head is _run buckethead run_ as he whips around a corner. Helmet, maybe they should have escaped with the Resistance — they could have been heroes for the pro-Finn cause, and Levs and Jate and Bebe could have picked things up where he and Zeroes left off—

Suddenly, he trips over something and goes flying forward, landing on the floor with a thump that sends pain spiraling throughout his entire body. He's about to get up when a pair of regulation white boots stop in front of him, followed by the sound of the safety clicking off a blaster, and all of the fight leaves him at once. More footsteps quickly follow, and soon he's surrounded by Troopers: some singed from the explosion, others polished to a shine. And the one in front of him — the one who'd tripped him — kneels before him.

"Hey there, slip-up," says Nines. "Going somewhere?"

* * *

That afternoon brings not only a mountain of paperwork related to his godfather's trial, but a First Order quadjumper bearing a flag of truce and an ambassador wanting to talk to Velle and Coll. Velle and Ffion tell Finn to hide during the meeting — not that he wouldn't have done the same with a First Order ambassador in the same building as him — but he wants to know why the ambassador is here, and what their intentions are. So once he's sure the coast is clear, he sneaks into a side room, opening the door just enough so he can see what's going on in the throne room.

From this angle, he can see his mother sitting on her throne, her expression inscrutable. In the throne beside her is Coll, whose brow is furrowed slightly in an expression Finn doesn't know how to decipher. And standing before them with his back to Finn is the ambassador, a thin man in his late sixties who Ffion had called Peren Quill. Finn knows about him; he's the one that the Supreme Leader always sends to do his bidding, and the thought makes Finn grow cold. _Why is Quill on Artorias? What does he want?_

"Senator Solbourne," Quill says, the words coming out as smooth as a knife spreading butter on toast. "Senator Ryzka. Thank you for doing me the honor of meeting with me."

"I wouldn't call it an honor," Velle says. "You came here under a flag of truce, Ambassador. Now say what it is you came to say, and do not waste our time with meaningless pleasantries."

"Of course, Madam Senator." Quill straightens, clasping his hands behind his back. "I have no meaningless pleasantries to waste. I am here first and foremost to apologize for the First Order's previous…wrongdoings. To both Artorias and your family."

"Wrongdoings?" Velle repeats. Her voice is calm, yet it almost burns with barely contained fury. "The First Order killed my husband and son. I don't consider that a wrongdoing, Ambassador. I consider that an act of war. And thankfully for you and the New Republic I did not act on that consideration."

"The First Order can do nothing," Quill says again, as though Velle hadn't spoken at all, "but offer our humblest apologies, and hope to take the proper steps to begin the relationship between the First Order and Artorias anew. Your planet would be a valuable ally and a partner in trade; it would be a beneficial relationship for both of our people."

"Certainly, steps shall be taken," Velle says. Her back is as straight as the chair, her face cold and hard. "In which direction remains to be seen."

"Madam Senator — Velle, if I may—"

"You may not," Velle snaps, and her voice rings loud as a bell in the silence of the throne room. "Do not act as though you have the right to address me so informally, Ambassador Quill. The First Order burned me once, and I've a long memory." She leans forward in her chair, her voice perilously soft. "Artorias has pledged to remain neutral in this war, and neutral we shall stay. No amount of posturing on behalf of the First Order will change my mind. Have I made myself clear?"

For some reason Quill glances at Coll, as if hoping to get assistance from that quarter. When none arrives, Quill simply inclines his head and says, "Perfectly clear, Madam Senator."

"If that is all you came here to say," Velle says, "then I suggest you take your leave, Ambassador."

"I'll show you out," says Coll, rising to his feet. "Ambassador, if you'll follow me…"

 _Oh shit._ Finn stumbles away from the door as Velle leaves the throne room and Coll and Quill start heading into the side room, where he is. With barely any time to think, he throws himself into a closet and closes the door just as Coll and Quill enter. But Quill and Coll don't seem in any hurry to leave; in fact, Quill looks almost…pensive, and so does Coll. _What the hell?_

"I'm surprised Senator Solbourne wasn't willing to reconsider Artorias's neutrality," Quill says, his tone mild. "You'd think she'd have learned from her late husband's mistakes."

"Bite your tongue," Coll says, but there isn't much ire behind the words. "She's stressed. Her Chief of Staff was arrested this morning."

"Oh? And for what?"

"The murder of my Deputy Chief of Staff."

Quill actually laughs. "And am I to believe you are completely innocent in this ordeal, Senator Ryzka?"

"Innocence can be deceiving, Ambassador," Coll says, and Finn's entire body goes stiff from shock. But no, not shock — not really. He thinks back to the awkwardness he'd felt upon first meeting Coll, and his hesitancy to believe that Wick was responsible for Sandos's murder, and Coll's dramatic outbursts that morning. He'd been right to believe Wick, to distrust Coll. Coll killed Sandos. "As can Senator Solbourne's words. Tell me, how would the Supreme Leader react if I said there was a Stormtrooper among us?"

"I imagine he'd be surprised," Quill says. "Seeing as there are no Stormtroopers stationed anywhere near here."

Coll's smile sends chills down Finn's spine. "And if I said that the Stormtrooper was Senator Solbourne's long-lost son?"

That actually seems to take the ambassador aback. "You mean—"

"Yes," Coll says. "A recently escaped Stormtrooper named FN-2187. Would that be of any importance to the Supreme Leader?"

A slow smile spreads across Quill's face. Finn clenches his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms nearly hard enough to draw blood. "You know," he says slowly. "I believe the Supreme Leader would be _very_ interested in that information. Escort me to my ship and tell me more."

Coll inclines his head. "I'd be honored, Ambassador."

Coll escorts Quill from the room, and Finn lets out a heavy breath, trying to keep himself from shaking. Not from fear. He won't give Coll or Quill the satisfaction of frightening him. From anger. From pure, unadulterated rage.

Coll is a traitor. Coll killed Sandos and blamed it on Wick. Coll is working with the First Order.

 _I have to tell my mother._

* * *

 _Stay tuned for Chapter X, in which Finn confronts Coll, Slip's fate is determined, Zeroes holds an emergency meeting, and Rey senses a disturbance in the Force._

 _For those interested, Peren Quill's fancast is Ben Kingsley._


	10. Chapter X

"So," Nines says, leaning smugly against the wall opposite Slip's cell. "Looks like you slipped up real bad this time, huh."

Slip forces himself to his feet, glaring with as much energy and vitriol as he can in Nines's direction. He'd been tossed into this cell (and none too gently at that) and stripped of his armor, leaving him in nothing but a black shirt and trousers and bare feet. He was told to wait while the higher-ups got General Kilson, and Nines — as his proud captor — had been with him, mocking him all that time. "Leave me alone."

It's a weak comeback and he knows it, just like he knows Nines is smirking under that helmet. "So." Nines's voice drops to a sinuous whisper, like a little snake forking its tongue in Slip's ear. "Who was your accomplice? Who was it that helped you free the rebel prisoner?"

"FN-2199, fall back."

Nines straightens like he's been given an electric shock, and Slip's stomach constricts like someone punched him there, hard. General Kilson comes to a stop in front of Slip's cell. He's bigger than Slip, tall and broad, with a sharp jawline and an icy disposition. Slip can see a little of Zeroes in him — the same look of determination in their eyes, maybe — but not much. Even when Slip first met Zeroes, when they were fourteen rotations old, Zeroes had come across as aloof, strong, but not scary. Kilson is scary.

"Leave us," Kilson says without taking his eyes off Slip. Nines salutes and retreats, the door to the room whooshing shut behind him. "FN-2003."

It takes everything he has to not let the tremble wracking his body enter his voice. "Yes."

"You freed the rebel prisoner and helped the Resistance spies escape," General Kilson says. Incredibly, he sounds amused. "You, with the abysmal battleprep scores, with the inability to hit the broad side of a cruiser with a blaster or act in a manner befitting a proper Stormtrooper. You."

"Yes." Slip gulps. It's not like denying it will do him any good. He's already got the sense that he's a decommissioned Trooper walking. "I did."

"There are claims you did not act alone," General Kilson says. "Claims of two Troopers shooting the officers guarding the starfighters, and then ensuring the rebels would get away before running off to save their own skins."

He makes himself shrug, wishing he had his helmet to hide what he truly feels. "Just claims," he says. "I acted alone."

After all, if they'd caught Zeroes, Kilson and Nines would have postured like peacocks and bragged about it endlessly. They would have thrown Zeroes in here with him, had him join in the interrogation. No, Zeroes must have gotten away, and Slip can't help but feel relieved. If Zeroes is still around, he can continue spreading the story of Finn and the spark of rebellion to the other Troopers. Their cause won't flicker out before it can truly begin. And the prisoner and the rebels are surely safe on D'Qar by now. He's done all he can do.

"You acted alone." Kilson doesn't sound convinced. "Is that so."

"Yes," Slip says. He makes himself grin, trying to take refuge in audacity. The way he imagines Finn might have, in a similar situation. "All under the First Order's nose. And who knows? Maybe other Troopers will follow in my footsteps. Maybe I'll be their FN-2187—"

In the blink of an eye, Kilson pulls out a phaser, aims it through the bars, and fires a bolt of plasma right at Slip's chest. The impact is hard enough to stun him, sending him several steps backward, and he falls to his knees before he can catch himself, coughing painfully and struggling for air.

"That will not be so," Kilson says. He could be talking about the weather, or giving a mission debrief. "There will never be another Trooper as deviant as you, FN-2003, or as FN-2187." He holsters his phaser and crosses his arms over his chest, a thin, satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We will dispose of you the way we _should_ have disposed of FN-2187 when he began showing signs of potential aberration. The way that every turncoat and traitor to the First Order shall be disposed of from now on."

"Yeah?" This time, he can't help the quiver in his voice. Thinking about dying as a martyr is one thing; actually coming face to face with the idea of dying is another. "How's that?"

"Oh." Kilson's smile grows until it sends a shiver down Slip's spine. "You'll just have to wait and see until tomorrow morning."

* * *

"My apologies for the delay, Madam Senator," Coll is saying as he enters the throne room, but his words come to an abrupt halt when he sees Finn, Velle, Ffion, Kavi, and six ASRA guards in the room with him. "Have I missed something, Velle?"

"No," Velle says. She sounds as cool and composed as ever, but there's fire lurking beneath the surface — just as there had been when Finn had told her what he'd heard. "I am the one who has missed something, Coll. Several things, in fact, starting with how you have been in close contact with the First Order, and offered them information about my son."

"And framed Wick for a murder that _you_ committed," Ffion says, the words almost a snarl. "And don't try to deny it," she adds, for Coll had just been about to do so. "Finn heard your conversation with Ambassador Quill. He told us everything."

Coll scoffs. He doesn't even look bothered by this information. "And you trust the word of a man you barely know, Velle?"

"As far as I'm concerned, the only man in this room I barely know is you," Velle snaps. "I trust my son's word over yours any day." As if by an unheard command, two more ASRA guards grab Coll by the arms, restraining him from going anywhere. "We will release Wick and put you in jail where you belong, where you will await trial and—"

"I don't believe so, Madam Senator."

Velle stops, clearly thrown by the interruption. "Excuse me?"

"I'm afraid you're in no position to say what will happen around here, my dear Velle." Coll releases himself from the grip of the two guards, brushing the dust off his jacket as he crosses his arms over his chest, smiling. "Gentlemen?"

Quick as a flash, the guards unholster and aim their blasters directly at Velle, Finn, Ffion, and Kavi — but no, not Kavi. Kavi steps away from them, cool as can be, and walks over to Coll's side, where the guard to his right hands him a weapon of his own. They're outgunned and outmanned before Finn can even blink, and the uneasy feeling in the pit of Finn's stomach spirals outward, threatening to make him shake.

"How dare you." Velle's voice is low, dangerous, even with six blasters pointed at her. "What is the meaning of this?"

Coll smiles; the same thin, cold smile he'd worn when speaking with Ambassador Quill. "Let me refresh your memory, Velle," he says. "Twenty-three years ago, the First Order approached Artorias with a deal: to align with their interests in the face of the growing discontent between the First Order and the New Republic, in exchange for protection. A deal your husband refused to consider."

"Felix knew the First Order would never keep any promise it made," Velle says sharply. "He knew there was no trusting any organization that rose from the ashes of the Empire, no matter how sweet the promise sounded. He did what was right."

"He took the coward's way out," Coll snaps, and Velle snarls at the words, lunging forward as if to smack Coll, but Finn and Ffion hold her back. "And he convinced Arak to do the same, no matter how much I tried to convince Arak that the deal would make the ruling body and the planet more powerful. So Kavi and I sought to…rectify what went wrong."

"You killed him, didn't you." Finn doesn't even recognize his own voice, stunned and furious as it is. Beside him, his mother is trembling, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You killed my father."

"If you're asking whether I stood before Felix Solbourne and pulled the trigger myself, the answer is no," Coll says, seemingly oblivious to Finn's growing anger. "But I like a bargain, so when Ambassador Quill and Supreme Leader Snoke assured me they could give me the power I desired and get rid of Felix Solbourne in one fell swoop, I let them take the reins."

"You bastard." Velle lunges forward, clearly ready to tear Coll apart with her bare hands, but Ffion wraps her arm around Velle's stomach and keeps her in place. Still, she struggles to break free, struggles to keep back the flood of furious tears. _"You bastard!"_

"I'm merely a politician, Velle," Coll says, "with the gift of recognizing opportunities when they present themselves." His voice grows cold. "And yet, my path to power was obstructed by your survival. You were not supposed to live through the Morning Massacre any more than young Samson was — nor was Arak supposed to make you Senior Senator when the position should have gone to me. And I was left with nothing but my position as Junior Senator and a plan half accomplished."

"You would have thrust the planet into war," Ffion snaps. "Millions would have died while you sat by doing nothing."

"But I would have had all the power I desired and deserved," Coll says simply. "And that, Ms. Lapara, would have been an eternity better than spending the last twenty-three years quietly gathering allies and trying to convince the First Order that we were a potential ally worthy of their time."

"So why kill Sandos?" Finn says. He's growing tired of listening to the ramblings of a man mad with power, but the more Coll talks, the more time Finn has to think of a way out of this. He has to get out of here; has to get his mother and Ffion (and Wick) out of here. His beacon's upstairs — if they make a break for it and go on the run, he can signal Rey, and she'll bring the Falcon back around and save them. "What did you have to gain from that?"

"It was a difficult decision," Coll says, like he's talking about having to choose between two dishes at a restaurant. "One that only came about because of your arrival. FN-2187, Velle and Felix's long-lost son. I knew that you had the power to convince Velle to strike down our declaration of neutrality and aid the Resistance in their fight against the First Order — that you knew firsthand what the First Order could do to those disloyal to it. I killed Sandos and framed Wick Mandae in the hopes that it would fracture the government and keep you from your mother until you left."

"And the ambassador—"

"Another happy coincidence," Coll says. "But one I was more than willing to take advantage of. You see, he told me of another deal the First Order was willing to strike with Artorias. If we recant our declaration of neutrality and join them as allies, all those who are loyal on this planet will be rewarded."

"And those who aren't?"

"They will be disposed of," Coll says. "Just as all those disloyal to those in power should be."

"And speaking of which," Kavi says, speaking up for the first time this entire conversation. A smile spreads across his face. "I do believe that we have those in this room who are disloyal to those currently in power, Senior Senator Ryzka."

"I believe we do, Junior Senator Monna. Guards, take the dissidents below…and when Ambassador Quill returns with reinforcements, we will dispose of them properly."

"Now," Finn says under his breath to his mother. Thank the Force, she understands, because when one of the guards puts a hand on Velle's shoulder, Velle grabs him by the wrist, yanking him forward and around and knocking him to the ground. The blaster clatters out of the guard's remaining hand and Finn grabs it, slamming the butt of it in the face of another guard, and he's just clicked off the safety and put his finger on the trigger when Coll grabs Ffion, holding her close and putting Kavi's pistol to her throat.

"Lay down your weapon," Coll says pleasantly. Ffion swallows hard, the muzzle of the pistol actually moving against her skin with the motion. "Or the Senior Deputy Chief of Staff leaves this room in a body bag."

Finn wants to swear. He can't think of any other way out of this without getting Ffion killed, so he reluctantly tosses his blaster to the ground.

"Excellent," Coll says, smiling. "Guards, take the ex-senator and her son downstairs to Mandae's cell. I think I'll have Ms. Lapara stay up here with me. As leverage."

 _Bastard,_ Finn thinks, and Velle bares her teeth at Coll and Kavi as she and Finn are escorted from the room.

* * *

It's funny, Zeroes thinks, how everything in his life seems to turn upside down and inside out in the span of a few hours. Back on Starkiller Base, everything he thought he'd known about Eight-Seven turned out to be wrong, and then true again, in an entirely new way. Same as Slip, who Zeroes had come to regard as a friend, and not as the weakling slip-up of their squadron that he and Nines had written him off to be. And now this, with Slip's idea to help free the rebel prisoner and the mad escape from the northern bay. Somehow, he'd gotten out unscathed, and hopefully the prisoner and the handsome flyboy and his friends had too. Slip, however, hadn't been so lucky.

Rumors fly as fast as ships around here, and everyone's buzzing about it. They're saying it's to be an execution; a bloody one by the hands of every Trooper on board. A lapidation by way of blaster fire — and one that Zeroes is determined to stop from happening, one way or the other. Slip saved his life by insisting they split up (and the rebels' lives by deciding to help them), and that means Slip can't die. Not until Zeroes has the chance to berate him for his reckless stunt.

Because of the escape, the higher-ups have got the entire base on lockdown, which means everybody is dismissed from their night duties and forced to have their dormancy period at the same time. Zeta Squadron trickles into their quarters in twos and threes, and Zeroes waits until everyone is accounted for before he begins to speak. Carefully, though, because Slip's capture means their quarters have almost certainly been bugged, and there could be higher-ups listening to them right now. "You've all heard, then?"

"Yeah," Jate says, the scales around his eyes bunching up from concern. There are a flurry of nods. "What happened to Slip? We heard he was—"

"FN-2003 was a traitor," Zeroes cuts in, and takes a breath. Speeches aren't his forte, but this is an emergency. "A turncoat. Like FN-2187. He helped the rebel prisoner aboard escape, and the other rebels who came to rescue her. They're saying he acted alone."

"Helmet," Bebe says. Her eyes are a deep, intelligent brown, and when their gazes meet, Zeroes knows she gets what he's trying to tell them. That Slip did a good thing, and that Zeroes helped him. "An embarrassment for Zeta Squadron. I hope none of us get sent in for reconditioning."

Just the thought makes dread curl icy fingers around his heart. "Yeah," he says. "Doubt it, though, since none of us are traitors like him. Right?"

"I might be," says Levs, who transferred to their squadron after her latest battleprep scores dropped from staying up all night listening to their plans about defection. She worries at her bottom lip. "What if he infected me?"

"That's not how being a turncoat works, buckethead," Jate tells her, and Levs sticks her tongue at him as if to say _I'm trying to sound innocent here._ Zeroes appreciates the effort, but he needs to get to the point fast.

"They'll be disposing of the traitor tomorrow night," Zeroes says. "I heard about it at dinner, from someone in Gamma Squadron."

Bebe frowns. "How're they doing it?"

"Lapidation by blaster fire," Zeroes says, and everyone winces in near perfect unison. Lapidation by blaster fire is an old punishment, originating from the days of the Galactic Empire. Zeroes had never seen it done, but he's heard stories. On the _Supremacy,_ Supreme Leader Snoke's ship, a Stormtrooper earned that fate by looking at the Supreme Leader the wrong way, and the rumor goes that they had to literally scrape bits of her off the ground after all was said and done. "And not everyone on the ship knows yet. So tomorrow, go around and tell everyone you know." _Everyone you trust, that is,_ Zeroes thinks. His lip curls at the thought of Nines, who's been prattling on all day about how he'd been the one to turn Slip over to General Kilson and how he'll probably get a promotion out of this. _Smug fucker._ "Tell them what FN-2003 did. And if they don't understand what's at stake, tell them to picture FN-2187 at the business end of their blasters. Tell them what we have to do with turncoats. The time to act is now."

Understanding ripples through the room like a rock dropped in a puddle. "Got it," Bebe says, and Jate and Levs and everyone give a nod and a murmur of affirmation. "Slip-up won't know what's going to hit him."

 _And with luck, neither will anybody else._

* * *

By the time Finn's finished recounting the story, all Wick says is, "I'll kill him."

"Get in line," Velle says dully. She's sitting cross-legged in the corner of their tiny cell, her shoulders slumped. She'd tried to break the bars, tried to pick the lock on their cell with one of her earrings, but now all the fight has gone out of her. Wick's sitting beside her, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw tight, and Finn has remained standing, leaning against the wall. "This is my fault."

Finn startles. "What?"

"I shouldn't have kept this planet neutral for so long," Velle says. She scrubs a hand down her face, looking as though she's aged twenty years in the span of one second. "I was young and frightened when I rose to power, and I thought neutrality was the best way to keep our people safe from this war, especially after it took you and your father. But I should have realized…" She takes a shuddery breath. "I should have realized that neutrality was an empty promise, a pocketful of dust. I should have been more like your father, and allied with the Resistance and the New Republic." Her voice breaks. "Then none of this would have happened."

Finn kneels beside her, takes her hand. "You had a choice to make, Mom. An impossible choice. Believe me, I know all about impossible choices." _And how a single misstep could get me and everyone I cared about killed._ "But if you want to make amends, it's never too late to do what's right and join the right side."

"He's right, Velle," Wick says. He reaches out as if to touch her shoulder, but retracts his hand at the last moment. He takes his glasses off, wiping them on the hem of his shirt, and then says, "I don't know what will happen to us here."

"We'll find a way out," Finn says, even if he isn't sure how. "I'll figure out something, Wick. I promise."

"I mean," Wick presses on, as though he hadn't even heard, "I don't know what will happen to us here, and I must share something with you both before I am no longer able to."

Velle frowns. "I don't understand."

"On the day of the Morning Massacre," Wick says, and even as he says the words, Finn remembers the chaos in his vision; Stormtroopers everywhere, people screaming and rushing away through the plaza, blaster bolts sizzling through the air. "I told you to get yourself and Samson to the safe house while I went to get others to safety."

"I remember," Velle says, her frown growing more pronounced. "Wick, I don't—"

"I didn't."

That throws her for a loop. "What?"

"I didn't. I tried, but…" Another shaky breath. "While you went to the safe house, I returned to the ASRA Residence to issue the planetwide evacuation order. To try and save as many people as possible. I failed — I was chased away from the Residence by First Order officers and Troopers alike, and I hid. I saved my own skin, instead of trying to save others." His eyes drop to his lap briefly before rising to meet Finn's. "I could have prevented you from being taken, had I gone with you and your mother."

"You couldn't have," Finn says. He knows what weapons the Stormtroopers had on them that day; what they would have carried to deal with rioting civilians. It's a miracle his mother had lived to tell the tale at all. "You would have gotten killed if you tried to stop them from taking me, Wick."

"But I would have died for a noble cause," Wick says. It's clear the guilt of his actions — or his inactions, rather — has been weighing him down for the last twenty-three years, and Finn wonders if this is why Wick never acted on his feelings for Ffion, from his guilt. He can relate, having felt similarly on Jakku when he was falling for Rey and torn over his role as a reluctant spy. "A far better fate than crouching behind trash cans in the back alleys of the city, watching Troopers gun down innocents because I was too afraid to face danger head-on when I needed to."

"I suppose that makes two of us," Velle says, and it's such a wry statement that Wick and Finn both snort from laughter. She takes his hand. "You told me for years I shouldn't blame myself for Samson's — for Finn's disappearance. I believe it's my turn to return the favor."

Wick's eyes brim with tears. "Thank you, dear girl."

Finn wants to say that he doesn't blame Wick either, but his mind has suddenly snagged on a solution to their problems like a piece of cloth in a chain-link fence: how to rescue Ffion and themselves (and possibly even the planet) in one fell swoop. "Wick," he says, and both Velle and Wick look over at him. "What's the planetwide evacuation order?"

"In every home on the planet, there's a connection to the ASRA," Wick says. "Similar to a commslink signal, for sending information to everyone. In the ASRA war room, the control panel that connects to every home has options for a holocast, or an audio message — and in the worst possible case scenario, an evacuation order."

"What's that entail?"

"You punch in the coordinates to where people must evacuate, and they'll go there," Velle says, frowning again. "It's only been used a few times in our government's history — I believe your grandfather tested it back in the day, but I don't remember the reason."

"Listen," Finn says. His heart and mind are racing in perfect sync, and he stands up, pacing to work loose energy out of him. "What if there was a way for us to get out of this cell, get Ffion back, issue the evacuation order and escape before the First Order gets here?"

"I'd say that's a fool's dream," Wick says bluntly. "Alright, say we do all of the above — how would we escape? Coll's no fool; he'd have every ship in the Residence on lockdown or towed away from here."

"Not if we took the underground emergency rail to the tarmac," Velle says, but Wick's already shaking his head.

"He and Kavi could impound all ships we could use to escape," Wick says. "We can't steal a trading ship or stow away, we'd need authorization codes and I can't hack the mainframe."

"I can get us a ship," Finn says, which earns him another round of incredulous looks from his mother and godfather.

"How?" Velle asks. "There's no way of contacting anyone from this cell — unless you have your emergency beacon?"

"No," Finn admits. "That's in my room, and they've probably confiscated it or destroyed it by now. I've got another way of contacting someone."

"How?"

Finn grins. "I'll use the Force."

"That's not how the Force works," Velle says. Wick's jaw has dropped wide enough to catch flies. "Is it?"

Finn takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure," Rey assures him. They're outside, and she's sitting facing the ocean while Luke kneels hesitantly behind her with a pair of shears he'd borrowed from one of the caretakers. The sea air feels good in her lungs; everything about this island makes her feel alive. "I wanted to keep my hair this way until I found my family again, and now…now I found it again. And I want to try something else. Something new."

She can't see it, but she can tell Luke is smiling. "Something short."

"Exactly."

"Well," Luke says. "I'm not as good at this as Leia, but let's give it a try."

The next few moments are spent listening to the waves crashing onto the rocks below them, and R2's beeping, and the squeak of the blades against her hair. She closes her eyes, feeling lighter than ever, like she's zooming down sand dunes on her speeder. It's still not easy between them, and maybe it'll never be, but they're both determined to try and make up for lost time. That's enough for her.

 _Rey?_

Years of scavenging the ruins of Jakku keep her from flinching hard enough to send her over the cliff, but it's a near thing. She could have sworn she'd just heard Finn's voice in her head, but that's impossible. The last time that happened was when Luke made them try out their perceived Force bond, which had ended in visions and disaster. This might be another trick from the Dark Side trying to influence her.

And yet…

She closes her eyes tighter, trying to relax. Trying to make out a hazy speck in the corner of her subconscious. _Finn? Finn, can you hear me?_

 _Rey!_ And slowly but surely, an image of the man she loves more than anything blossoms into view. A little blurry and out of focus, but there's no doubt that this is Finn. She wonders if he can see her too. _Rey, I need your help._

 _What happened?_ Her heartbeat quickens at the very thought of Finn being in danger. The last time they'd spoken, he'd said that everything was fine, that he'd found his mother. What could have happened since then? _Finn, what can I do?_

 _We've — mother and — taken hostage._ The words are coming out more staticky and cut off, like a voice through a poorly made radio. She doesn't know if it's because of their untested Force bond or the distance between Ahch-To and Artorias, but she doubles down on her concentration anyway, listening with horror as Finn recounts the events of a framing, a betrayal, and a coup on Artorias. _First Order's coming. We need you and Skywalker to get us out._

 _I can do that. We'll come in the Falcon right away._

 _We'll be by the tarmac. Same place we landed earlier._

 _Got it._ She nods. _Stay strong, Finn. I'm coming. We're coming for you._

"Rey?"

She straightens at the sound of her father's voice, opening her eyes to the real world. R2's got a makeshift holomirror in front of her, so she can see her new shorter, choppier haircut that ends just below her ears, but she's too worried to enjoy it. "Luke," she says, getting to her feet in a hurry and facing him. "Finn talked to me, just now. I heard him. He's in trouble."

"You heard him?" Luke looks stunned, and R2 beeps a string of curses. "Through your Force bond?"

"Yes. He's in trouble — he and his family are in trouble, and we need to go to Galfridian City and save them before the First Order gets them. I'll fly the Falcon; can you be the gunner?"

"I've been told I'm a pretty good shot."

Rey feels herself smile despite the worry coursing through her. "Good," she says. "Then let's do this."

 _I'm coming for you, Finn. Just hang on._

* * *

 _Stay tuned for Chapter XI, in which Finn uses a Jedi mind trick, an evacuation order is issued at a great cost, Luke and Rey arrive on Artorias, and the Stormtrooper rebellion begins._

 _Inspiration for Rey's new haircut can be found on my tumblr thescavengerandthestormtrooper, under the tag fic: the stars walk backward._


	11. Chapter XI

_Peace is a lie. There is only passion._

The first guard charges at him, brandishing electro-bisentos, and Kylo Ren dodges the blow, slicing through the weapons like they're made of cardboard. With his other hand, he sends the guard flying through the air, where they hit the wall with an immensely satisfying thud.

 _Through passion, I gain strength._

Another guard comes rushing forward, the hum of the Bilari electro-chain whip enough to disorient someone less adept than him — but he has the Force on the side. With one hand, he forces the whip to wrap around the guard's neck, and they fall to the ground with a groan, twitching as electricity courses through their armor.

 _Through strength, I gain power._

He hears the _shing_ of the vibro-arbir blades being split in two, but he gracefully ducks away, slices the left blade in half, and then uses the Force to raise the guard into the air by the throat. A smile curves his mouth as he listens to the sound of the guard choking for air, and—

"Lord Ren?"

Kylo Ren tosses the guard back to the floor, where they lie gasping for air. He rips the blindfold off and whirls around to face the two Stormtroopers at the door. All officers on the ship are under strict orders to never interrupt him or any of the other Knights of Ren when they are training, not to mention they are never supposed to see him without his mask on. Perhaps he will need to teach these insignificant pawns a lesson about respecting their elders.

"Speak quickly," he says. "And if I am satisfied, I will release you both."

He uses the Force to choke the Stormtrooper before they can say anything else, gleeful and proud that he was skilled enough to pick up his grandfather's best trick. He wonders if Darth Vader felt as powerful as he feels now, cutting off this Trooper's air supply, watching their knees buckle, watching—

"Lord Ren, you asked us to inform you when Ambassador Quill had left Artorias," the Stormtrooper on the left says quickly, sounding terrified. Good. Their eyes don't leave their partner for even a moment. Their words spill out in a mad rush. "Ambassador Quill reported to the Supreme Leader that the implementation of the Last Resort will begin once the First Order troops arrive on Artorias. Senator Ryzka received the ambassador's message and locked up the Senior Senator and the members of her cabinet and her son."

That gives Kylo Ren pause. "Her son?" he says. His grip loosens slightly, and the Stormtrooper dangling a foot off the ground gasps like a beached whale. Frowning, he tries to recall what he knows about Velle Amaty Solbourne. Her husband had been a weak-minded fool and a martyr, and her son had been kidnapped for the Stormtrooper program. Her son—

His hand spasms, and the Stormtrooper in the air stops gasping all at once.

Velle and Felix Solbourne's son. The subject of Phasma and Hux's failed attempt to take down the Resistance from the inside. The almost-worthy opponent who had hefted _his_ grandfather's lightsaber in the crumbling ruins of Starkiller Base and snarled, _Come get it._ The friend of the equally unimportant scavenger girl.

"FN-2187," Kylo Ren says to the remaining Trooper, who looks like they want nothing more than to curl up in a ball beside their partner and die. Kylo Ren can arrange that. "FN-2187 is on Artorias?"

"That is what Ambassador Quill said, Lord Ren. Senator Ryzka told him."

Kylo Ren's jaw tightens until his back teeth threaten to crack. "Send word to delay the troops," he says once he trusts himself to speak in a manner befitting a Knight of Ren. The Supreme Leader will not be pleased with his decision, but he cannot bring himself to care. Once he eliminates FN-2187 and the scavenger girl for good — once he redeems himself from that match on Starkiller Base — he will be able to give himself fully to the Dark Side and finish what his grandfather started. "I will accompany them to Artorias."

 _Through power, I gain victory._ A vicious grin breaks free as he follows the Stormtrooper to the landing bay. _Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free._

* * *

Precious minutes have passed since Rey got his message through their Force bond — and isn't that something, that they actually have a Force bond with each other, like real Jedi — and even longer since she'd confirmed to him that she and Skywalker were on their way. Now, as the guard shift changes and the door shuts behind the departing soldier, he can finally put his plan into action.

"Hey," Finn says. Wick and Velle are in the corner of their little cell, away from him; they'd all figured this would work best with as few distractions as possible. He waits until the guard makes eye contact with him, and then — after taking a deep breath — he says, "You will unlock the door to our cell and let us leave this room unharmed."

The guard's eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. "Excuse me?"

Finn's confidence wavers slightly. He's only heard about tricks like this from the Resistance and Rey; maybe it takes a few tries for it to really work. _Or maybe I'm not doing it right at all._ Steeling himself, Finn repeats, this time with more authority, "You will unlock the door to our cell and let us leave this room unharmed."

The guard laughs, hefting the blaster in his hands higher so the muzzle is aimed directly at Finn's head. "How about," he says, low and threatening, "you shut up, or I do my utmost to harm everyone in this room starting with you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Velle flinch. Fear sticks in his throat, but he does his utmost to shove it down. He can do this. He has to save his family, and save the people of this planet, and this is the only way to do so. He takes a deep breath. Calms himself. And tries once more. "You will unlock the door to our cell," he says. He feels weird this time, light-headed, like he's not in control of his own voice. "And let us leave this room unharmed."

Slowly, the guard lowers his weapon. His gaze is strangely distant. "I will unlock the door to your cell and let you leave this room unharmed," he echoes. And just like that, the guard crosses the room and pulls out a set of golden keys, unlocking the door. He even gives a respectful nod and moves to the side so Velle and Wick and Finn can pass. Unbelievable. Finn can't wait to learn what else he can do with the Force.

Wick clears his throat, and Finn quickly adds, "And you'll give us your weapon."

"And I'll give you my weapon," says the guard. He hands the blaster to Wick, who hands it to Velle, and then crosses the room again to open the main door for them. Finn peeks out from around the doorway; the hallway is miraculously empty. If Rey and Skywalker get here soon, they'll be able to rescue Ffion and issue the evacuation order and escape unscathed. They can do this.

As if echoing Finn's thoughts, Velle clicks the safety off the blaster and hefts the weapon high, and she leads Finn and Wick out of the room without looking back.

* * *

He doesn't have any last words prepared.

The realization hits Slip like a punch to the stomach as he's pulled out of his cell, blindfolded, and frog-marched down the hall by a pair of Alpha Squadron Stormtroopers. All that time he'd spent alone in that holding cell, trying to keep a cool head and think his way out, and now his execution is imminent and he hadn't prepared any final words: nothing to say that shows he can be brave in the face of death.

Slip wonders if Zeroes will be able to keep their movement going. If, one day, their plans to organize a mass defection will actually see the light. If they'll ever get to join the Resistance and fight against the First Order. If they'll ever get to meet up with Rose and the other rebels again.

He feels an unexpected lump rise in his throat at the thought. He really wanted to have the opportunity to see Rose again. To thank her for deciding to trust him and Zeroes back in the prisoner's quarters. Because of her, he got to be a hero, to do the right thing for the first time in his entire life. To be like Finn.

Hopefully Zeroes will thank her when Slip is no longer able to do so.

Suddenly, one of the guards shoves him hard in the back. Sharp pain reverberates through his kneecaps as he hits the ground, but he barely has time to react before the blindfold is ripped off his face.

It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust. He's on his knees in front of what looks like every squadron on base, Alpha through Zeta, all of whom are holding blasters. General Kilson stands directly in front of all the Troopers, his uniform perfect, a cold smile on his face. "Stormtrooper FN-2003 of Zeta Squadron," he says, and the tiny part of Slip's brain that isn't engulfed in terror wants to laugh at the irony of being addressed as a Trooper when he isn't even in his armor. Never before has he missed his helmet and armor as much as he does now. "On the charges of aiding the Resistance and conspiracy against the First Order, the officers of the _Finalizer_ find you guilty, and sentence you to lapidation by blaster fire."

Lapidation by blaster fire. The worst punishment of all, for the worst crime of all. He knows he should be scared — and he is, on some level, based on the way his hands are shaking — but his mind is strangely settled. Languid, even; more calm than it has been in a long time.

"Do you have any last words?"

Slip looks up. Kilson is still smiling, but it's less cold now, more amused. He probably expects Slip to stammer and stutter his way through a pathetic plea, to cry, to prove to everybody in the northern bay that a slip-up like him is the most unworthy Stormtrooper in the First Order.

But somewhere in the crowd is Zeroes, and Jate and Levs and Bebe, and hundreds of others who need to know why Slip did this. If he's going to be a martyr for the cause, Slip decides, shoving away all of his fear, then he's going to do this right.

He opens his mouth and begins to speak.

* * *

It doesn't take them long to make their way out of the basement and back up to the main hall of the ASRA, which is mercifully empty. The only guards they'd come across had been at the bottom of the stairs, and Wick and Finn had knocked them out easily and taken their blasters. According to Velle, Coll and Kavi are likely keeping Ffion hostage on the top floor of the residence, which houses her office, Coll's office, and the ASRA war room.

Finn can hear voices echoing from halfway up the hall, and he presses his ear to Coll's office door, his heart pounding.

"I don't see why you insist on being so uncooperative, Ffion," Coll is saying. To the left of Finn, Wick and Velle tense at the sound of Coll's voice. Wick in particular looks downright murderous. "If you denounce Velle and Wick, the First Order will be sure to treat you with leniency when they arrive."

 _When,_ Finn notices, relieved. So the First Order troops aren't here yet. They've still got time to escape.

"The First Order has never treated anyone with leniency," Ffion retorts. Thank the Force, she sounds alright. Angry, but alright. "They would have to be human first. I would rather die than do anything to aid them."

"They will be aiding us, Ffion." Coll sounds frustrated, like an officer at their wit's end with their subordinates. "Aiding Artorias."

Ffion scoffs. "You are a fool if you think they have our people in mind, Ryzka."

"Do not," Coll says, low and dangerous, "call me a fool, Ffion Lapara."

"Bite me."

Suddenly, there are sounds of a scuffle, followed by a high-pitched yelp of pain, and Finn doesn't even bother to exchange a look with Wick and his mother before he kicks the door open.

Finn's instincts kick in right away, allowing him to take stock of everything in a moment. There are twenty Artorian soldiers here, along with some of Ambassador Quill's guard, Kavi, Ffion (who is crudely tied to a chair), and Coll, who's bent over at the stomach clutching his face. Blood trickles through his fingertips, from an obviously broken nose. Everyone is staring, stunned at the interruption.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Finn charges at the first soldier and punches him in the chest, sending him staggering backward right into another soldier. He dodges blaster fire from some of the soldiers smart enough to use the weapons in their hands, and fires his own weapon right back at them. Meanwhile, Wick and Velle have teamed up; Wick strikes one of the soldiers in the face, and the blow lands so hard that it spins their head sideways, and when Velle kicks their legs out from under them, the soldier lands right on their electric spear and does not move again.

"Put down your weapons!"

Finn stumbles at the words, but manages to knock out the Artorian with the butt of his blaster in lieu of shooting him. In the center of the room, surrounded by soldiers lying unconscious or dead on the floor, stands Kavi Monna with his forearm wrapped around Wick's throat, a pistol in his other hand, which is held to the side of Wick's head. Kavi looks disheveled, frantic; Coll is nowhere to be found. Had he escaped in the chaos?

"That's right," Kavi says. His finger twitches on the trigger. Velle has her blaster pointed directly at Kavi's head, but she and Finn (and Kavi) know she can't kill Kavi without guaranteeing Wick's death. "Now put down your weapons, and let's—"

Just then, a chair comes sailing down on top of Kavi's head, and he crumples to the ground. Behind him stands Ffion, holding the broken remains of a chair like a weapon, her clothes askew and her wrists chafed from rope burn. Velle takes advantage of the distraction of the remaining guards to shoot them with her stolen blaster, and Finn does the same.

"Are you alright?" Ffion asks urgently to Wick, who seems content to stare slack-jawed at her for the rest of his life. "I'm so sorry, I should have — I should have stood up for you when Ryzka accused you, I should have — did they hurt you?"

"No," Wick manages. "No, they didn't hurt me. Did they hurt you?"

"No, I'm alright."

"I'm so glad."

"Not to interrupt the moment," Finn cuts in, "but we're kind of in a hurry here. Escape now, hug later?"

Ffion averts her eyes and Wick blushes up to the roots of his graying hair. Under any other circumstances, Finn might laugh. "Right," he says with a firm nod. "Right, yes. Ffion, have Monna or Ryzka changed the codes for the protocol to issue the evacuation order?"

"No," she says. "Not that I'm aware of. They spent the last few hours pestering me and preening, not doing anything productive."

"Well," Velle says, "thank the Force for that."

Velle moves the body of a fallen Artorian guard out of the way and pushes a door open, leading them into a room the size and length of a narrow corridor. At the very back of the room is a control desk, illuminated by what looks like hundreds of different-colored glowing buttons and levers. Wick starts typing before he even sits down properly, and less than ten seconds later he jumps to his feet again. "Velle," he says. "Send the message through."

Velle takes the seat Wick had left vacant, and raises a small microphone to her lips. The lights over the main monitor have all flickered out, except for one that is beaming red. She flicks her finger over a switch, and the light goes green. "Citizens of Artorias," she says. She speaks calmly, but quickly. "This is Velle Amaty Solbourne, your Senior Senator. I have little time to speak, so listen closely. Junior Senator Ryzka and his Chief of Staff have instigated a coup. The First Order is coming to seize control of the planet. At the siren, you must evacuate."

"To D'Qar," Finn says. "Tell them to go to D'Qar. General Organa will help them."

"You must evacuate to D'Qar," Velle says smoothly. "The Resistance will protect you. And at the siren, you must go. The First Order will leave no survivors who are not undyingly loyal to them, and I will do my utmost to protect all those that I can." Her voice breaks. "My utmost. That I swear."

Three things happen all at once. Velle switches off the microphone, Ffion reaches over her and turns on the switch for the planetwide evacuation sirens, and the door to the ASRA war room bangs off its hinges, revealing a squadron of First Order Stormtroopers — who all, in unison, raise their blasters and fire.

* * *

"I plead guilty to all that I've been accused of," Slip says. "I aided the rebels who invaded the base and helped them escape. I conspired against the First Order." His fists clench at his sides as he stares defiantly at the crowd. "And I don't regret any of it."

"That's enough," Kilson snaps, but Slip ignores him.

"On Starkiller Base, there was a Stormtrooper named FN-2187."

"I said that is _enough."_

"And FN-2187 wasn't a Resistance plant. He was in my squadron; he was one of us. And he realized that the First Order was cruel and he didn't want to be a part of it anymore, and he defected to the Resistance to help their cause—"

" _I warn you, Stormtrooper, you will be silent or else—"_

"I will not be silent!" The words come out louder than anything Slip's ever said before, rippling through the crowd like a stone dropped in a pond. The officers by Kilson's side exchange worried looks, but the Stormtroopers stay quiet, motionless. Listening. "I will not be silent anymore. I won't be a pawn in the First Order's game. I helped the rebels escape for the same reason that FN-2187 defected — for the same reason that _Finn_ defected — because it was the right thing to do. And if Finn could do it, why can't we? We can all—"

Just then, everything flashes white and red and flies apart, as if the _Finalizer_ itself had exploded, and searing pain erupts from every part of his body at once: his face, his hands, even his toes. When the fiery pain finally subsides and his eyes regain their focus, Kilson swims blearily into view above him, his pale face puce with anger, gripping a phaser tightly in his hand.

"Stormtrooper FN-2003," Kilson says softly, dangerously. He's towering over Slip, trembling from rage as he grabs Slip by the front of his shirt and yanks him back to his knees. "You will _be silent."_

"My name is Slip Maisy," Slip croaks. He feels like he's going to throw up. "And I choose to do what's right."

"You have no name." Kilson releases his shirt and shoves him away, and Slip almost falls flat on his back again. The general's movements are manic, frantic, like he's trying to erase what Slip had said from existence. _Shouldn't have let a buckethead like me have the option of 'last words' if this is how you react. And I did what was right. I know it._ "None of you have names, least of all that turncoat and traitor FN-2187! You were all born and bred to be nameless, faceless loyal servants of the First Order, and you will _never_ be anything else! Zeta Squadron, step forward!"

The first row of Stormtroopers step forward, forming a tight-knit circle around Slip, blocking him off from the outside world. Their blasters gleam in the overhead lights like stars.

"Good," Kilson says fervently. "Zeta Squadron, you will be the first to sentence the traitor FN-2003 to his well-deserved fate; at my count, you will _tear him to shreds,_ you will _blast him to bits,_ you will act as _proper Stormtroopers_ or so help me, I will—"

"Shut up, Father," Zeroes says, and he shoots General Kilson in the head.

* * *

Ffion's quick thinking saves all of their lives. While Finn and Velle use their stolen blasters to try and take down the Troopers that found them — thank the Force for their poor aim, otherwise he and the others would be mincemeat by now — Ffion kicks open a door to the side of the control desk, grabs Wick with one hand and the backs of Finn and Velle's clothes with the other, and shoves them into the side room before she does the same for herself, slamming the door shut behind her.

Finn takes off down the narrow, winding staircase, praying that the door will hold long enough for them to get to…wherever the hell these stairs lead, at any rate. Velle's holding up her skirts as she runs behind him; from the quick footsteps echoing further back, Wick and Ffion are holding up the rear — and the Stormtroopers aren't far behind.

"This is the fastest way to the emergency underground rail," Ffion shouts from behind them. As they go further down the staircase, Finn's ears pop from the change in altitude. "Not the safest, mind, but the quickest."

"Considering our circumstances, safety is the least of our concerns," Velle says, just as Finn calls over his shoulder, "Good thinking, Ffion."

"Thanks."

Finally, they reach an even tinier room that smells like dust and death and looks like a New Republic monorail stop. On the railway is a see-through, bubble-shaped carriage the size of an X-wing cockpit; on the platform wall is another control box, though this one simply has a lever that reads OFF on the top and ON on the bottom.

" _Malda,"_ Ffion says. "This place hasn't been upgraded since it was built. Is it still operational?"

"It appears so," Wick says, in a voice that sounds like he is trying very hard to be calm. "And the mechanism that controls the carriage is on the outside, not the inside."

Finn's stomach plummets to the center of the planet. Sure enough, Wick is right, but… "Wick, what are you saying?"

"That this carriage will not move unless someone is on the platform to start it," Wick replies quietly. "And I have no choice but to volunteer to be that someone."

"No, Wick." Velle clasps his hands in hers. "You cannot do this. I'll not leave you here to die!"

"I swore to give my life for you and your family if necessary, ma'am." Wick squeezes her hands, his shoulders squared and jaw set. "And if I die to keep you all safe, it will be worth it."

"No." Finn's shaking his head before Wick can even finish his sentence. Wick is his godfather, his mother's best friend, and he refuses to lose him like this. Not when they've just gotten to know each other. "Wick, there's got to be another way."

"There isn't, Finn. Believe me, if there was I would have suggested it." Wick sounds terrified yet grimly determined to do the right thing — even if it means sacrificing his own life. Far away (but closer by the second) the noise increases: yelling and shouting, footsteps, and the sounds of metal bending under the force of blaster bolts. The Stormtroopers will break through in less than a minute. There is no time to argue. "One of us has to work the lever for the carriage to work, and that person must be me."

"You stupid, brave man." Velle's voice trembles under the pressure of her tears, and she throws her arms around Wick in a fierce embrace. "I love you."

"I love you too, dear girl." Wick holds her tightly but pulls away a moment later, his lips pressed together tightly like he's afraid he'll cry if he doesn't choose his words carefully. Then he turns to face Finn. "I wish we could have had more time to get to know each other," he says, almost by way of an apology. "But you're a good man, Finn. Felix would have been proud of the man you've become." He swallows, holding out his hand. "I know I am."

Finn grabs Wick's hand and pulls him into a hug, trying and failing not to cry. "Thank you, Wick."

Then Wick turns to Ffion, and it's like they're the only ones left in the world when they embrace. Ffion pulls back first, straightening the collar of Wick's jacket with a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "I'll not leave you either."

"Ffion, no—"

"You can't change my mind, Velle. I'm staying with him. We'll hold them off together so you and Finn can escape."

Wick glances between Finn and Velle, who have gotten into the carriage, and Ffion, whose steely eyes and set jaw indicate that not even the threat of death will remove her from his side.

Then Wick steps forward, cups Ffion's face in his hands and kisses her. It's not like any of the ones Finn has shared with Rey, or like any he's seen before. Wick kisses Ffion like he's memorizing the shape of her, the feeling of her in his arms, but there's something strange in his eyes when he pulls back.

"I love you, Ffion," he says, calm even with the shouting of the Stormtroopers in the distance. "I always have, and I always will."

Ffion's eyes go wide in surprise. The tension leaves her body; she goes soft as the shock of his words registers.

And so she does not expect it (nor do Finn or Velle) when Wick shoves her away from him, as hard as he can. She cries out and stumbles backwards through the open doors and into the carriage, landing in Finn's arms. But before any of them can do anything Wick throws all his weight on the lever, and the doors glide shut — and Ffion scrambles upright, tries to get to them, to keep them open — but they close with a firm click just as she gets her hands on the plexiglass.

" _Wick! Wick, no, NO!"_

The door to the rail room bursts off its hinges just as the carriage comes to life with a shudder, building up steam as it races away from the platform. Ffion bangs her fists against the doors, screaming as Wick kisses his fingers and holds them up to them in one final farewell. "Wick!"

For a second or two, there's nothing but silence before the sound of a hundred blasters discharging bounces off the walls of the tunnel, followed by a distant, final thud. Velle freezes, and Ffion's voice and hands still. Finn's heart stops in his chest.

 _Wick_.

Ffion's knees give out, and she collapses to the floor of the carriage, tears streaking down her face. "He's gone," she whispers. Numb, shocked, grieving. "Oh Force, he's gone."

Velle gets down on the floor next to her friend and Finn does the same, putting an arm around his godmother's shaking shoulders even as tears stream down his own face. They both know that there's no way the Stormtroopers would have let Wick live once they realized what he'd done. He's gone. His godfather is dead.

"I loved him, Velle," Ffion sobs. "I loved him and I never told him; he never knew that I loved him too—"

"He knew," Velle whispers. "I promise that he knew. A blind person could see how much you two cared for each other."

 _Finn?_ Rey's voice echoes in his mind again, much clearer than before. It's like she's standing right beside him. _We're nearly at Galfridian City. We'll meet you at the tarmac_.

Distraught as he is at the loss of his godfather, it only takes Finn a moment to answer. _Okay. We'll see you there._

* * *

 _Rey, we're at the tarmac — land and we'll come to you._

 _You got it!_

To think just weeks ago she'd been terrified trying to fly off Jakku in the Millennium Falcon; the chaos she sees now supersedes the chaos back then by a long shot. Ships are taking off all over the planet, and still more are arriving — Lybbartean cruisers, quad-jumpers, carriers, all from the First Order, all doing their best to stop the Artorians from escaping the planet. Luke's down in the gunner's seat blasting every First Order ship he can see, and R2's up in the cockpit with her, beeping unhelpful advice about his experience in the Battle of Naboo.

Then, way down below, three tiny figures emerge from a stone building at the very edge of the tarmac, and Rey doesn't need her Force bond to know who they are. "Luke!" she calls. "That's them; I'm banking! Keep the First Order off our tail!"

"I'm on it!"

Driving the ship surfaceward, she pulls up at the last possible moment, barely dodging a handful of civilian aliens running toward their ship. Finn and two other women are running toward them — why wasn't his godfather among them? — and Finn is waving frantically at her.

She lands the ship ungracefully in a spare patch of the tarmac, the force of the landing enough to rattle her teeth. "R2, take the wheel," she orders R2, who beeps an affirmative and takes over. "Luke, open the ramp!"

The ramp drops with a crash full of sparks, and Rey runs out of the cockpit and through the den, where she smacks right into her father. "I'll get us flying," he says. "From the looks of it we're going to need a quick getaway."

"Good thinking."

Luke sprints to the cockpit, and as the Falcon starts to lift up off the ground again, Rey makes it to the edge of the ramp, reaching her hand out to help Finn. He looks haggard and a little worse for the wear, but he's alive. Thank kriff. "Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

Finn takes her hand and uses it to pull himself up onto the ramp, and then the two of them help the other women. Rey takes stock of them briefly — a Yavinese woman in her fifties with teary eyes, and a woman with a green scarf wrapped around her head and brown eyes like Finn's — and says (more like shouts, given the noise), "Is this everybody?"

"Yeah." Finn's eyes are teary too, which gives Rey enough details to figure out what happened to his godfather. "It's just us. Let's get the hell out of here."

There's more shrill beeping from the cockpit, and the Falcon slowly rises off the ground. Rey's about to reach for the button that closes the ramp when the ship gives a sudden lurch, sending the four of them to the ground. Finn's mother curses. "What in the name of—"

They get back to their feet and turn around, and the sight at the end of the tarmac is enough to give Rey nightmares for the rest of her life.

There are Stormtroopers filling the tarmac, shooting at fleeing civilians and ships with cold precision, blood splatters on their white beetle-shell armor. And there, at the front of the first row with his hand outstretched, freezing their ship with the Force, stands Kylo Ren himself.

* * *

At last.

Kylo Ren doubles his concentration, allowing a vicious, victorious grin to spread across his face. For a few moments, he'd doubted he'd be able to catch FN-2187 before he escaped the planet — that fool Ryzka had stammered out a hasty bunch of excuses that had just been plausible enough to avoid Kylo Ren killing him — and now here is FN-2187, the scavenger girl, and the Millennium Falcon, caught like a mouse in a trap.

Inch by inch, the ship moves closer to him. He can practically taste their fear and defeat, and allows himself to imagine the power that will be his once he destroys them. Surely the Supreme Leader will forgive his detour if it results in the destruction of the burgeoning Light Side.

But something strange is happening. The girl is holding out her hand in front of her, and so is the traitor. Their eyes are closed, their brows furrowed, and he can feel the Force ebbing away from him. They're shoving back at him with the Force — they _both_ have the Force. The Falcon's engines are roaring louder than the anger in his veins, and it's getting away. By pushing back at him with the Force, his grip on the Falcon is slipping. The threads are fraying, burning.

 _No. That's impossible! Impossible!_

With a roar of rage, Kylo Ren summons all of his strength and yanks his hand back, but FN-2187 and the scavenger girl _shove_ back with so much force that he topples over, knocking down the Stormtroopers that were flanking him. The Falcon uses his lapse in concentration to their advantage and shoots forward like a speeding blaster bolt, flying off into the sky with the other Artorian ships.

Kylo Ren's scream of fury echoes on the tarmac echoes on the tarmac long after the Millennium Falcon disappears.

* * *

In the split second it takes for General Kilson's body to collapse like a puppet whose strings have been cut, there is absolute, total silence in the room. Everyone is staring, stunned, stupefied. It is as if the entire world has frozen, encapsulating them in ice. Even the officers aren't moving.

Then Zeroes drops his blaster and charges at Slip, yanking him back to his feet and pulling toward the ships docked at the edge of the northern bay. They're surrounded by the others from Zeta Squadron — Levs and Jate and Bebe, their blasters at the ready, acting as an honor guard. Saving him from certain death.

And seeing what Zeta Squadron had done — or perhaps finally understanding the entirety of Slip's speech or what Kilson's death meant — other Troopers take off at a sprint after them. There's the group from Sigma Squadron that always sits together in the mess hall, and the little ones from Gamma, and a couple Troopers from Theta, and more, and more, and more. They run toward the ships even as blaster fire starts sailing over their heads and screams from the loyalist Troopers and officers — Slip even hears Nines's voice above the commotion, leading the calls of, "Traitors! Turncoats! Get them!"

Levs breaks off first, heading to a Lybbartean cruiser usually used for transporting ambassadors and visiting high-ranked officers, and at least five hundred Troopers follow her. Bebe heads for another ship, even more Troopers on her heels, and Jate does the same with another ship, and Zeroes shoves Slip aboard an Upsilon class tanker that Slip doesn't even have the clearance to breathe near, let alone set foot on.

"Someone get this ship off the ground!" Zeroes yells, and at least six Troopers fall over themselves to do what he says. Slip sits down hard on the floor, stunned as more Troopers file past him, even _saluting_ him. He's dead. It's official. The blaster bolt missed Kilson and killed him. That's the only possible way that any of this makes sense.

The ship rises with a strange shuddering sound — oh, wait, those are the ship's blasters, never mind. They're firing back. He can see out one of the windows; there are hundreds of Troopers firing at them, and even more Troopers, big and small, young and old, all different squadrons, lying dead on the floor of the northern bay. How many are with them now, crammed on these ships?

" _Damn it, somebody get us out of here now!"_

The ship shoots forward so fast they all fall back, and if it weren't for his helmet, Slip would have cracked his head open on the floor.

By the time the ship finally comes to a halt and Slip can look up again, they're out of the northern bay. They're so far away that the _Finalizer_ looks like a tiny blob. And since the _Finalizer's_ artillery is solely meant for protection, they can't shoot them down, at least not with their head start. They can send ships after them, but with the really good, really fast ones stolen, the remaining loyalist Troopers are going to be up a creek without a paddle. Which means they're out.

They're free.

"Hey." Slip blinks up at Zeroes, who's extended his hand to him. "You alright?"

"I'm alive," Slip answers with a shaky laugh, and lets Zeroes help him back up. "Can't complain, I guess."

"For a revolt planned in less than a day's notice, we didn't do so bad," Zeroes says. He wrenches off his helmet and scrubs a hand down his face, as if he'd suddenly noticed that their stolen ship is filled with so many Stormtroopers that there's barely room to breathe. Then he taps at his wrist, revealing—

"Is that a commslink bracelet?" Slip demands, feeling once again like the world had been torn out from under him. "I thought they got rid of all of those after Finn defected?"

"Bebe found them in a crate in the back of one of the storage rooms," Zeroes says. "Isn't that right, Bebe?"

" _That's right,"_ Bebe pipes up. Her voice is a little fuzzy from static, but Slip is glad to hear it. " _Levs and Jate are both alright too. We've all got a bucket-ton of Troopers on our ships who want to know where we're going."_

"Not a bad question," Zeroes says mildly. "What's the plan from here?"

Slip startles slightly once the realization that the question had been aimed at him hits home. Everyone within view has taken off their helmets and are staring at him, waiting for instructions that — thankfully — he knows how to give.

"D'Qar," Slip says, and Zeroes nods like he'd expected that all along. "Set course to D'Qar."

* * *

 _Stay tuned for Chapter XII, in which there are many reunions, Luke and Leia discuss Han's death, and unexpected guests arrive on D'Qar._


	12. Chapter XII

They got away.

It's a miracle if Finn has ever seen one. There they'd been, caught in a Force-made tractor beam of Kylo Ren's devising, and just when things had seemed hopeless, he and Rey had closed their eyes and _shoved_ back at Kylo Ren with everything they had. It was just like Skywalker had told them: their Force bond had made them stronger, and they'd defeated him.

"We did it," Rey breathes. She'd retracted the ramp and is now slumped against the wall, her expression somewhere between awe and relief. "I can't believe we did it."

"I know," Finn says. He joins her in leaning against the wall, the adrenaline coursing through him and making his legs tremble. "I wish I could have seen Ren's face when he knocked him down."

Rey starts laughing. "He went flying like a tumbleweed," she giggles, and Finn snorts at the thought. "Do you think if we shoved him harder he would have been thrown back through a building?"

"Maybe just a ship or two."

Rey dissolves into an absolutely _offensive_ full-body laugh, and soon they're both laughing so hard they can barely breathe, let alone stay upright. Finally, when the adrenaline leaves his system — and their hysterical, relieved laughter dwindles into the occasional snicker and hiccough — Rey turns to face him, wiping under her eyes with one wrist. "Are you alright?" she says, serious now. "Did they hurt you?"

"No," Finn says. "No, they didn't hurt me."

Rey hesitates. "And your godfather?"

A lump rises in his throat. "He didn't make it."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." Finn means to tell Rey that she would have liked Wick had she met him, but the words stop as he notices something new about her. "You changed your hair."

Rey shrugs, offering a tiny smile. Her hair is no longer in three separate buns; instead, it's short and choppy and ends right below her ears, and there's a tiny, clumsily made braid on the right side. "What do you think?"

"I like it," Finn says honestly, and Rey's smile grows. "It suits you."

"Thanks."

"Finn?" Finn turns away from Rey in time to see Luke Skywalker exiting the lounge, Velle and Ffion by his side. Ffion's paler than normal and the scarf around Velle's head is singed from stray blaster fire, but they're both alive and safe. Finn will take that. "Glad to see you're alright."

"You too," Finn says, a little awkward. Skywalker looks so different from the last time Finn had seen him. Not in appearance (though he had trimmed his beard a little), but in attitude — he seems alive again, full of joy, more like the man who he used to be. From what Rey had told him, he and Rey had made amends, and he's happy for them both. And speaking of family… "Mom, Ffion, this is Rey. Rey, this is my godmother, Ffion Lapara." Ffion manages a weak smile. "And my mother, Velle Amaty Solbourne."

"It's nice to meet you," Rey says to Velle, who nods and murmurs the same. Then, with a quick glance at the man who had moved to stand beside her, she says, "And this is my father. Luke Skywalker."

"I think my wife and I met you and your husband many years ago, Madam Solbourne," Luke tells Velle, whose eyes widen in recognition. "We stopped there on a diplomatic mission."

"I remember," Velle says, though when she turns to Finn, she looks more perplexed than anything. "Finn, Master Skywalker told us that he's training you and Rey to be Jedi. That's where you went after you defected from the First Order?"

"That's where I went," Finn confirms. At that dinner the first night, he hadn't told her all of the details of his defection and what he'd done afterwards; he'd been too worried about the information potentially falling into the wrong hands. Since Coll and Kavi had ended up betraying them, that had been the right choice, but now he can tell his family everything. "Kind of, anyway. It's a long story."

"It's a long flight to D'Qar."

Finn snorts. "That's true," he says, exchanging a look with Rey. "Let's go to the lounge. I'll tell you everything."

* * *

In the time that it takes them to fly from Artorias to D'Qar, Finn tells the full story of what happened to him and Rey to Ffion and Velle (who gape and gasp in all the right places), and while R2 pilots the Falcon with Skywalker, Finn, Rey, and Velle get in touch with General Organa and inform her about the situation and that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of Artorian refugees on their way to D'Qar. She assures them that they'll handle it, which relieves them all immensely. He hadn't wanted all those people to be stranded with nowhere to go.

When the Millennium Falcon lands and they all go down the ramp, the main tarmac is barely organized chaos. Hundreds of pilots and mechanics are running around and communications officers are barking into their commslinks. In the distance, there is a long line of Artorian ships being inspected and repaired, with high-ranking officers like Admiral Ackbar and Major Ematt taking down their information — and Velle and Ffion immediately hurry away to help with the process.

Finn barely has time to get his bearings before he sees a blur of orange and white barrelling toward him and Rey, and only his reflexes keep him from being knocked down by BB-8 when the droid finally comes to a stop. "Hey, buddy," he tells BB-8, who chirps happily at them and knocks its head against Rey's hand, showing off its antenna. "Good to see you."

"Finn!"

"Holy shit, it's Finn! Finn's back!"

By the time he looks back up, he's surrounded by Black Squadron, and he throws his arms around Poe, who's grinning wide enough to beat the band. "You look the same!" Poe says by way of greeting, and grins at Rey, who smiles back. "I thought you guys couldn't come back until you got a set of brown robes and one of those little braid things."

"Slight change of plans," Finn says, grinning as he endures greetings from Oddy and L'ulo and Snap, who looks a little worse for the wear but no less happy to see him. Force, he missed his friends. "Where's Karé?"

"Right here," says Karé, and Finn's knees almost give out from under him when he turns around. There are three women at Karé's side: a tall young woman wearing a brown bomber cap, a shorter girl with her hair in a messy ponytail and grease stains on her mechanic jumpsuit, and…

"Hey, Finn," says Jessika Pava with a very familiar smile. "Good to see you again."

"Pava," he says, stunned. Beside him, Rey takes a sharp breath. "You're — you're alive?"

"Alive and kicking, thanks to these guys," she says, gesturing at Karé, Poe, and the two women Finn doesn't know. "They rescued me from the _Finalizer."_

While Pava and Rey exchange greetings, Poe says to Finn, "This is Rose Tico and her sister, Paige. They helped us rescue Pava."

"It's an honor to meet you," Rose gushes, which is not at all how Finn is used to being greeted. "I mean — wow. You're Finn. _The_ Finn! I've heard so much about you, and what you did on Starkiller Base, and—" She blushes up to the roots of her hair and offers her hand, which Finn shakes. "Sorry. Talking to Resistance heroes isn't really my strong suit. I'm Rose Tico."

"And I'm Paige," Paige says, with a fond eye roll at her younger sister. "I'm a gunner with Cobalt Squadron."

"Right," Finn says, because he actually has heard of Paige, if only in passing from the others in Black Squadron, and it's strange to be thought of as a Resistance hero. "Don't worry, talking to Resistance heroes isn't my strong suit either." Rose blushes even further, and Paige musses her hair. "It's nice to meet you both. Uh, and just Finn is fine. Finn Solbourne."

"And I'm Rey," Rey says to Rose and Paige. A small smirk plays on her mouth. "Rey Skywalker."

Every jaw drops at once. Even BB-8, who had been busy beeping with R2, makes a surprised chirp. "Rey _Skywalker?"_ Poe says to Rey, who nods. "And Finn Solbourne? Since when did you guys get last names? You've been holding out on us!"

"A lot's happened in the last few days," Rey says with a laugh. "And it seems like just as much has happened to all of you."

"We'll have to have a storytelling contest," Rose puts in. "Just to see who had a more exciting time of it."

"Sounds like a plan," Poe says, and he leads them off to do just that.

* * *

Luke may have agreed to return to D'Qar with Finn and Rey — and by extent, return to civilization — but one glance at the busy tarmac of the Resistance base has him longing for the solitude of Ahch-To, and a life with no one but the porgs and caretakers for company. But before he can hide in the Falcon under the guise of doing routine repairs, R2 beeps at him judgmentally, and he reluctantly makes his way down the ramp.

Waiting for him around the side of the ship is a familiar woman, her presence commanding, her clothing elegant yet understated. Her face is lined; she wears little jewelry. Her graying hair has been swept back into an updo, an Alderaanian mourning braid tying the hairstyle together, and she crosses her arms over his chest, sizing him up in a manner eerily reminiscent of their first meeting long ago.

Her name falls from his lips before he can catch it. "Leia."

"Luke." Inexplicably, Leia gives him a wry smile. "I know what you're going to say. I changed my hair."

"It's nice that way." He tries for a smile of his own but falls short. What can he say to excuse his disappearance when his sister has lost so much? Can he say anything at all? "I heard about Han. I'm sorry."

Leia's face threatens to crumple, but miraculously, she keeps her composure. "Did you feel him pass?" she says. "Through the Force?"

"Rey and Finn told me," he admits, shame curdling his stomach. "I didn't sense it. I turned away from the Force."

"That would explain why none of us were able to find you." She holds up a hand, cutting off his excuse before he can even formulate it. "Whatever the reason," she says, "and I know there were many — I don't care. I'm just glad you're here now."

"I should have come sooner. I wish I had. But I was lost."

"And now you're found again," Leia says, like it's that simple. She casts a knowing look at Rey and Finn, who are still speaking with the pilots from Black Squadron, and Luke wonders if she'd known who Rey was when she sent her and Finn to Ahch-To find him. Most likely. Leia has always been good at seeing people for who they were. One of her many talents.

"I came back to help you face him, Leia." Luke's voice goes soft as she turns back to face him, her own smile gone. "You know that we can't save him."

For a moment Leia looks like she might protest, but all the fight leaves her like a gust of wind extinguishing a flame. "I held out hope for so long, but…" She lets out a shaky breath, and gives a tight nod. Still, she meets his eyes unflinchingly. She's always been much braver than him. "I know now that my son is gone."

"I'm so sorry, Leia." _For everything, my sister. I'm sorry for everything._

"I know," she says again, with a hint of Han's roguish, crooked smile.

At long last, they embrace.

* * *

Finn jolts awake to the wail of alarms, heart ready to pound out of his chest, and nearly falls over Rey (who had been lying beside him) in his haste to get to his feet. They barely have time to exchange a look before they hurry to get dressed and run out of the room, neither of them caring that Rey's hair is a mess and that Finn has his jacket on inside out.

Outside in the halls, everyone is running around them like headless chickens, swearing and shouting questions like _what the hell is going on_ and _is it an attack_ that Finn can barely hear over the blaring alarms. Rey clutches Finn's arm so hard that he almost loses feeling in it completely. "What the hell is going on, Finn?"

"I don't know," he answers, his voice hoarse. The scar on his back is itching again. "We have to find my mother."

"I just saw her go around that corner with Ffion and Luke," Rey says, raising her voice to be heard over the commotion, and Finn would collapse with relief if he weren't afraid of getting trampled in this damn hallway. "They're probably going to see General Organa."

The general. Of course. That's definitely a good start. He nods tightly. "Okay," he says. "Then let's go see the general."

The general, as fate and the Force would have it, is in the war room that overlooks the main tarmac and the shipyards. Velle is with her and looks as though she hasn't gotten any sleep since leaving Artorias — which, he supposes, is most likely true, since she'd been helping the refugees since they'd landed. He scans the room quickly, picking out familiar faces. Ffion. Karé and Pava. Chewbacca. Maz Kanata. Poe and Rose and Rose's sister what's-her-name, Paige. Kaydel Ko Connix. Master Skywalker. Major Ematt. Admiral Ackbar. And all of them are shouting at each other.

Rey is the first to be heard over the din, and it takes several shrill whistles for them all to turn around and face her. "What's going on?" Her eyes flicker from person to person. "What's happened?"

"Stormtroopers," says Poe, quick and furious. "An invasion of them."

Finn races to the window, nausea already rising in his throat, and his eyes almost bug out of his head. Four different First Order ships are hovering over Resistance airspace: a Lybbertean Cruiser, an Upsilon class tanker, two Class C quad-jumpers. That's four thousand Stormtroopers, maybe even five thousand. An invasion.

 _Oh, hell._

"Commander Dameron," Ematt is shouting, "take Black Squadron—"

"What of the refugees, we must get them to safety—"

"No, we must mobilize now—"

 _The Resistance is nothing but organized,_ Finn thinks, and he opens his mouth, ready to join the fray and start offering suggestions, but—

There's something wrong.

There's something wrong with the energy surrounding the base, the energy emanating from the Troopers in the sky. It's not angry. It's not dangerous. It's almost…hopeful, and a little afraid. And judging by Skywalker and Rey's faces and even General Organa's, they can sense it too — but none of them know what to make of it.

And there's something more, something that only a former Trooper like himself should have sensed without relying on his Force sensitivity. "They would have killed us already," he says. Everyone's attention shifts to him at once, which is impressive in and of itself, and he fumbles to find the right words. "If they wanted to kill us, they wouldn't be waiting, they would have done it already. Why are they waiting?"

That gives them pause. Even Pava, who had just been shouting at Admiral Ackbar to let her back in the air with Karé and the others, hesitates. She knows the Troopers and the First Order almost as well as he does now due to her time in captivity. She knows that given the advantage, they will always attack.

"Well," Skywalker says quietly. "I suppose we ought to ask them."

"What?" Admiral Ackbar splutters. "Ask them?"

Rose and Poe exchange a look that Finn can't identify the meaning of. Maybe it has something to do with the details of their rescue mission that they hadn't been willing to share, how they'd gotten off the _Finalizer_ alive. "Yeah," Rose says. "Let's ask."

Now all eyes go to the general, who straightens imperceptibly and nods once. Resolute.

The broadcasting equipment is yanked out of a wall by Rose and Kaydel, who act like they've set up important broadcasts like this every day — connecting wires and pulling levers and muttering orders to each other that he can't make out. But quick as lightning, they get General Organa hooked up to the speaker and back up to give her some space.

"This is General Leia Organa of the Resistance," she says. Her voice is clear and firm, leaving no room for error. Poe's hands twitch at his sides like he wants nothing more to be in his X-Wing firing shots at the First Order ships right now. "Identify yourselves."

And they wait. Seconds tick away, and Finn is starting to give up hope until a mess of static is heard, followed by, _"Is FN-2187 here? I heard — we heard that he was a Stormtrooper. Is he?"_

It's a man's voice. He sounds like he's trying to be confident but a sort of exhausted worry looms close to the surface. And moreso, the voice is familiar. Rose, Poe, Karé, Paige, and Pava straighten so suddenly that they look like they've all thrown out their backs in unison.

Leia wordlessly offers the transmitter to Finn, who takes it and pulls it close to his mouth, his lips brushing it as he speaks. "Yes," he says. Calm. Cool. Collected. "I was. But I'm not anymore. My name is Finn." Then, because he can't hold it back any longer: "Slip? Is that you?"

The laugh that follows is filled with so much relief that even Admiral Ackbar relaxes. _"Yeah. Yeah. It's me."_

"Hello Slip," says General Organa, the picture of diplomacy as she takes the transmitter back. "Why don't you let me direct you all to a more appropriate landing space?"

* * *

Finn is the first one on the tarmac, closely followed by Rey. He starts shielding his eyes as Slip _(Slip!)_ directs his ship and the three other ones to land. General Organa and Admiral Ackbar and Major Ematt are all barking orders and demanding that those in the Resistance ought to get back and give the ships some space. He feels like his world is turning inside out but strangely, he doesn't mind the feeling. If anything, he's used to it by now.

Someone puts a hand on his shoulder, and he turns around to see his mother. Ffion is absent; probably assuring the refugees that no harm will come to them. "How did you know that boy?" Velle asks. "Slip, I mean. The one who spoke to us."

"He and I were in the same unit together." Finn shakes his head in disbelief. "I-I guess he was the closest thing I had to a friend and now—" Now he had defected with five thousand other Troopers.

Rey frowns. "Wait," she says hesitantly, and Finn looks over at her. "I-I think I know him too."

That, more than anything, rocks him to his core. "What? How?"

"When Kylo Ren kidnapped me, a Stormtrooper visited me and asked me questions about you. I didn't think much of it at the time and he didn't give me his name but…but I think that was him."

Finn's response is cut off by the sound of the doors to the first ship opening, and he immediately turns his attention to the man walking down the ramp. Groups of Troopers follow him, some looking excited, most looking fearful. Almost none are still in uniform. Most are human, some humanoid, others alien. Finn loses track of how many there are once the crowds from the other ships come pouring out. But one thing stays the same — they're all following Slip. And there's someone else next to Slip, someone else that's so familiar it makes Finn's head spin: Zeroes.

Is he dreaming? Is he still in a coma? What the hell has the world become?

Slip and Zeroes stop in front of Finn, bypassing everyone else. Zeroes nods politely, but Slip grins wide, unafraid as ever to show his emotions. "Hey, Eight-Seven," he says.

"Hey, Slip." Finn's throat is dry. "Zeroes."

The Resistance crowd parts for General Organa, and Slip and Zeroes immediately salute her. The general blinks, startled but hiding it well. "At ease," she says. "Can I assume that one of you is in charge of this contingent?"

Finn is even more taken aback when Zeroes gestures to Slip. Last he'd seen Slip, he'd been the outcast of their unit (and of Starkiller Base in general), but now he's the leader of the Stormtroopers. And that. That's definitely unexpected.

"I am, General," Slip confirms with a nervous laugh. The crowd behind him murmurs in agreement. "We don't want to hurt you." Zeroes's eye twitches and Finn thinks that they must have already taken care of those who did want to bring harm to the Resistance. "We've come here because we want to see the Order fall."

"More than that," Zeroes says. "We want Stormtroopers to be freed. We've all come from the _Finalizer_ and I know that there are more Troopers who would take the option to leave if they could, if they knew the truth. There's so many of us and we wanted to be free because, well…" He looks over at Finn sheepishly. Whatever tension they'd once had is now gone and Finn isn't sure what to do. "Because it's the right thing to do."

Finn's jaw is roughly at his knees. Poe, Paige, Rose and the others from Black Squadron (who had apparently turned up sometime in the last few minutes without Finn noticing) and everyone around them are speechless. "How many of you are there?" Velle asks calmly, like she's arranging a dinner party or something. Force, he wishes he had her grace and poise.

Slip and Zeroes exchange glances. "Five thousand?"

"Nah," Zeroes says. "Forty-five hundred. Give or take. We lost a bunch when we were boarding the fourth ship."

"Wasn't that Levs's ship? No, wait. That was Jate's. You're right. Levs had a thousand exactly." To Velle, Slip says, "About forty-five hundred. Ma'am."

"I see," Velle says.

Finn can't keep quiet any longer. "How did you — what made you want to do this?" Zeroes looks at him like he's an idiot, which. Well. At least something is familiar about this. Finn clarifies. "I mean, how did you hear about my defection? I thought Captain Phasma was saying that I was a Resistance plant or something."

"She did," Slip says. "Your broadcast got cut off right before you said that you were going to defect and we all got sent to our quarters. Then she and Hux said that you were a Resistance plant and we shouldn't listen to anything you said."

"We believed her at first," Zeroes says with a snort. "Though why we did is something else; you and me and Slip have been in the same squad since we were fourteen rotations—"

"Please continue," Leia cuts in. In Stormtrooper speak this means _shut the fuck up buckethead and get to the point._

Zeroes does not look contrite or mollified, but he nods sharply and continues. "Of course, General. So we believed Captain Phasma, but then Slip went to go and ask your friend questions on Starkiller Base—"

"I _knew_ it was him," Rey says triumphantly. Slip gives her an awkward wave.

"And she told him that you really were a Trooper and Slip told me and Nines and—"

"Nines," Finn says, suddenly remembering the last member of their squad. "Where's Nines?"

For once, Zeroes looks uncomfortable and Slip looks down at his boots. "He didn't…he didn't believe your story. He's stuck firm with the First Order, Eight-Seven — uh, Finn." Hearing his chosen name come out of Slip's mouth is just _weird,_ almost as weird as it had been hearing Velle call him Samson. "Sorry."

Finn shakes his head quickly. "No. Don't apologize. It's not your fault." Truth be told, it's not much of a surprise. Nines had always acted like he'd sooner prance around the base without his uniform on than shit-talk the First Order. (Shit-talking Kylo Ren is another story.) It makes sense that Nines hadn't believed Slip's story.

But to think that forty-five hundred Troopers had…

Slip is talking again, and Finn makes an effort to tune in. "So Zeroes and I started organizing meetings in private once we were reassigned to the _Finalizer._ We told people your story and tried our best to drum up a rebellion of Troopers so we could all defect and come here like — uh, like we did now, I guess." He laughs nervously. "But after…" He pauses, looking from Rose and Poe to Finn again, and suddenly it clicks.

"You helped the others free Pava from the _Finalizer,"_ Rey says before Finn can. "Didn't you?"

Slip nods. "Yeah, we did."

"You saved our lives," Rose says. She runs a hand through her hair, and is it Finn's imagination or is Slip blushing? Force Almighty, what a day this is turning out to be. "When you refused to come with us and ran off, we thought—" She swallows. "Well, we didn't think that we'd be seeing you again."

"Who were you caught by?" Poe asks quietly, because Finn's voice has stopped working again.

"Nines." Slip sounds bitter. "Probably got promoted for turning in a traitor to the cause, too. General Kilson was going to execute me in front of everyone to prove a point — lapidation by blaster fire, that is — 'cause I made Zeroes make a run for it to absolve him—"

"Because you're an _idiot,"_ Zeroes says. Familiar jibes with different meanings. "I would have stood right up there with you, you know."

"I know, man, but I didn't want you or Jate or Levs or Bebe to go down with me. Anyway, General Kilson was going to have me killed, but before he did, he asked me why I did what I did, and I told him…" Now Slip returns to his old self: shy and unsure. "Well, I-I told him if Finn could do it, then why couldn't we?"

Shock, Finn suddenly discovers, is a wave of emotion so intense that it makes him want to collapse and stick his head between his knees to see if the world makes any more sense upside down. He's been listening to this for almost ten minutes but only now has it hit him like two speeders crashing into each other.

His defection had been the catalyst for a Stormtrooper rebellion. Slip and Zeroes had used his story to rally forty-five hundred Troopers and defect to the Resistance, all because of his broadcast. Because of _him._

He really needs to sit down.

"Zeroes started the riot," Slip is saying, oblivious to Finn's inner turmoil. "And he grabbed me and got me out of there and we all started running for the ships and got as many Troopers as possible on board the ships before we flew out of there. And I knew where to go because Rose told me that we should come with them to D'Qar when we were helping them escape, so…here we are."

Rose develops a sudden fascination with the pavement as Paige hisses at her, _"You told them what?"_

"That's neither here nor there," says General Organa. She appears calm but something in her eyes tells Finn that she'll berate Rose in private for her indiscretion later. "You are all here to stay, I assume." Nods ripple through the sea of people. "Before I officially welcome you into the fold, I have one request to make of you." She nods at Skywalker, who had walked up to stand beside his sister. "I request that every one of you line up to have your minds read by myself and my brother, Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker." Worried murmurs sweep through the crowd of former Troopers. "I promise that the process will not be invasive or harmful. We do not want to hurt you anymore than you do not want to hurt us. We simply wish to make sure that no one among you is a First Order spy." _Right,_ Finn thinks, fighting the urge to blush. _Like I once was._ "We can not afford a war within our ranks in addition to the one we are currently fighting against the First Order."

Finn looks out at all of the faces again. Many look afraid. A few at the front look irritated at the invasion of privacy but almost all of them look like they're willing to do anything to prove their trustworthiness to the Resistance. Having their minds read is barely a blip on their radar.

Rey takes his hand. That helps a little.

"Wonderful," General Organa says crisply. "Let's get started."

* * *

 _Stay tuned for Chapter XIII, in which Poe (accidentally on purpose) runs into Zeroes, Slip thanks Rose, Finn and Rey share a quiet moment, Kylo Ren gathers his allies, and the Resistance plans for the future._


	13. Chapter XIII

Over the next few days, Poe learns to get used to the sight of Troopers all over base. General Organa makes room for them in the dorms somehow, even though they're all full to bursting with Artorian refugees and Resistance personnel — probably by using the Force somehow. Poe knows from Finn and Rey that that's not how the Force works, but he wouldn't put it past the general to manipulate the Force in ways unimaginable. That's just the way she is.

But he hangs around Finn, whom the former Troopers from the _Finalizer_ have adopted as some sort of savior, and he gets to know a few of them. Levs is twelve years old and an absolute sweetheart who won't say more than two words at a time unless her friend Jate, a stocky half-human half-Aqualian with a glare sharp enough to cut diamond, is by her side. Bebe, who is thirty-four and looks strong enough to bench-press a quad-jumper, has decided to take a leaf out of Finn's book and give herself a name: Bea. Finn had suggested Twonines for a last name, considering her former designation, and she'd eagerly accepted it. They all seem like good people: wartorn, scarred, emotionally unsure, but good people. Far from the monsters he'd been told to think of them as when he'd been a child.

After running drills with Black Squadron, Poe heads to the mess hall to have lunch with Snap, Karé and Pava (still relishing in the joy that arises whenever he remembers that she's alive and safe) when he turns a corner and crashes into someone. He opens his mouth to apologize, but his eyes suddenly catch up to his brain and what comes out instead is a slightly breathless, "It's you."

Zeroes looks like he does not know what to make of that. "Yeah," he says, cautious, like he's expecting a fight. He's wearing dark trousers, combat boots, and a skintight black shirt — the standard underclothes of a Stormtrooper, from what he's heard — and it makes Poe feel vastly overdressed in his flight suit. "It's me."

"No, I meant…" Poe wants to bury his face in his hands. What is it with him today? "I just…haven't seen you since you got here."

"Yeah, uh. I've been busy." Probably helping Slip and Finn integrate the Stormtroopers into the Resistance, if Poe has to guess. That's what Finn had told him, anyway. Zeroes's look of confusion does not abate, though if Poe isn't careful he thinks some irritation might seep in sooner or later. "Were you looking for me, flyboy?"

"What? No!"

Zeroes cocks an eyebrow.

Okay, so _maybe_ Poe had been on the lookout for Zeroes since the Contingent of Troopers with No Ill Will (trademarked by Karé Kun) had landed, and _maybe_ he'd asked Finn a question or two about where he could find his former squadmate, but it hadn't been because of any nefarious intentions. "Well," he amends. "Yeah. I mean, I had to thank you at some point, right?"

Zeroes's expression changes to one of mild surprise. "Why me?"

Now it's Poe's turn to be confused. "Why not you?"

Zeroes reaches up to rub the back of his neck, his brow slightly furrowed. "I figured all of the thanks would be heading to Slip."

And yeah, Poe supposes that makes sense. After all, Slip had been the one to make the decision to help them and he'd almost gotten killed for his choice. But Poe remembers being pushed out of the way of falling debris by a Stormtrooper, and Zeroes making sure Poe got on the stolen starfighter before he made a run for it at Slip's request, and Poe says, "Not all of them." He bites his lip. "You saved my life. You're a good man, Zeroes."

"Thanks." Zeroes gives Poe a hesitant smile that Poe returns at once. "You too, uh—"

"Poe Dameron," he says automatically. "You can call me Poe." He pauses. "I probably should've asked if you still go by that. I heard a lot of Troopers changed their names."

Zeroes snorts. "It's alright. I kept Zeroes; I've had it too long to switch it out for anything else. Though I did choose a last name to go with it."

"Yeah?" He's suitably interested. He heard that Slip had taken his birth surname for himself (though how he'd found out his birth surname is beyond Poe); maybe Zeroes had done the same. "What is it?"

"Turncoat."

The world around him seems to still, but shocked as he is, all he can think is that Finn is going to shit bricks over this if he doesn't know already. "That's—"

"It's what the First Order calls Finn," Zeroes cuts in, flinty-eyed like he's _daring_ Poe to disagree. "I'm proud to claim it for myself."

"Well then, uh…" Poe clears his throat. He can feel everyone's eyes on him and Zeroes, sizing them up, and he knows that if this is going to work, if the former Troopers are going to integrate successfully into the Resistance, then he has to make the first move. In lieu of a physical olive branch, he extends his hand. "Thanks for saving my life, Zeroes Turncoat."

The corner of Zeroes's mouth quirks upward (in a way that absolutely does not fill Poe's stomach with warmth, no way, not at all). The tension dissipates as he shakes Poe's hand, replaced by something new. "You're welcome, Poe Dameron."

It's the first time he's said Poe's name in the entire conversation, and yet Poe thinks upon wishing the other man farewell that he could have listened to the way Zeroes had said it a thousand times and never tire once.

* * *

The past few days have been a whirlwind of activity, and even if he's exhausted from helping Finn and Zeroes integrate the former Troopers into the Resistance (and overwhelmed from meeting so many new people and being able to go around base armorless), Slip wouldn't trade any moment of his newfound freedom for the world. Though he will say it's strange being looked at by everyone with respect and open admiration and not disdain or pity. He's not sure he'll ever get used to that.

Since there's hardly any room on base now, he shares his quarters with everyone in Zeta Squadron, including Jate, Levs, Bebe (now Bea), and Zeroes, so there's a steady stream of people going in and out at all hours of the day. Mostly everyone is at lunch, so Slip takes advantage of the empty room to relax a little — something that gets spoiled about five minutes in when there's a knock on the door. Sighing, he gets up from his cot and heads across the room, pulling the door open to reveal—

"Hi," Rose says. She's not in her mechanic uniform today; she's wearing simple dark pants and a loose grey shirt, and her hair is tied back into a messy bun, and the sight of her standing before him makes his heart beat a little faster. "I, uh — is this a bad time?"

"What? Oh, uh, no. No, it's fine." Slip shoves his hands into his pockets, wondering what the proper response would be to something like this. "Uh, do you want to come in?"

"Sure," Rose says. Slip moves out of the way as she walks into his quarters. If she's surprised at the twenty cots shoved near each other and the slight disarray, she doesn't show it. "Um. Nice place. I like the…the wall color."

"Thank you." Slip worries at his bottom lip. "Uh, so…you didn't get in trouble, did you?"

"For — oh, for letting it slip where the base was?" Slip nods, and Rose shrugs. "I mean, General Organa was a little peeved with me, but nothing serious. She said it was lucky for us it was you guys who heard and not someone we couldn't trust."

"That's good," Slip says, relieved. "Listen, I…I wanted to thank you for that. Well, not just for letting us know where your base was, but…for trusting Zeroes and me in the first place. If it hadn't been for you, I — well, because of you I got to do the right thing for the first time in my life. I don't know what made you decide to trust us, but…thank you. For that."

Blushing, Rose ducks her head for a moment before she meets his eyes again. "My father used to say that the best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them," she says. "There was something about you — about both of you — that made me want to take that chance. And I'm glad I did."

His heart beats a little faster against his ribs. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rose says, like it's obvious. "And…I'm really glad you're alright. All of the Troopers, I mean," she adds hastily. "But…you know. After everything you've been through, I'm glad you're alive and here."

"I'm glad I'm alive and here too," Slip says honestly. "And that I got the chance to see you again."

Rose's blush deepens, but before she can say anything else, Zeroes shoulders the door open and stops midway, staring at the two of them with his eyebrows arched. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Rose says. "Well, I should get going. Will you — you're both going to the war council meeting tonight, right?"

Zeroes nods, and Slip says, "Are you?"

"I'll be there," Rose confirms. "So, uh. I'll…see you there, then. Bye, Zeroes. Bye, Slip."

He feels a little lightheaded, but manages to say, "Bye, Rose."

Before the door closes behind her, Rose turns, waving goodbye to him with a small smile when he looks her way. Slip automatically waves back, dropping his hand down to rest on his chest once she leaves. He's having trouble taking his eyes off the place where she was standing.

"I saw that," Zeroes says under his breath when he moves past Slip, elbowing him gently in the side.

"You saw nothing. There was nothing to see," Slip answers, far too quickly and breezily to be the truth.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I'm watching you, Slip." Zeroes smirks like his next sentence might be a contender for the best joke of the year. "Watching you watching her, anyways."

Slip is entirely unamused, but somehow he ends up grinning anyway.

* * *

"This seat taken?"

Rey looks up, a smile already curving her mouth. Strange how much easier it is to smile now, especially around the right company. "By you," she says to Finn, who grins and joins her on the rooftop, his legs dangling over the edge. From here they can see everything, and the few people left scurrying on the launchpad below look like tiny ants amidst the great, green rolling hills in the distance.

"What's on your mind?"

Rey startles at the question. Yet another thing she still isn't used to: having someone around that cares about her, what she's thinking. "When I was on Ahch-To," she says, "I…saw who I could be if I let the Dark Side of the Force influence me." She struggles to find the right words to express what she's feeling. "Skywalkers have always been strong with the Force, Finn. Both the Light and the Dark. Kylo Ren chose the darkness, and I…" She shudders at the memory of Kylo Ren — her cousin, she supposes, though she refuses to think of him as anything but the monster he is — murdering Han, hurting Finn, torturing her, almost capturing the Millennium Falcon on Artorias. "I don't want anything like that to happen to me."

"Nothing like that will happen to you," Finn says, quick as a flash. "You're not anything like him, Rey. You're good, and kind, and strong, and you're — you could never succumb to the darkness like Ren did."

"What if I do, though?" Rey clasps her hands together to keep them from trembling. "The darkness, it…it calls to me, sometimes. It's _in_ me, somewhere. I know it is, and I understand it. What if it gets the better of me?"

Finn lets out a breath. "Remember what Skywalker told us during our first lesson?" he says. "For there to be peace, there has to be balance between the Light and the Dark. The Light in you balances the Dark in you — and you can choose which one you want to pull from. There's always a choice."

"And I choose the Light," Rey says. Just saying it out loud makes her feel stronger and chases away the late afternoon chill.

"So do I," Finn says. He nudges her shoulder and offers his hand. "And if you ever feel conflicted, I'll be your light in the darkness. As long as you promise you'll do the same for me. Deal?"

A smile spreads across Rey's face, and she takes Finn's hand in hers. "Deal."

* * *

Much like the urgent, messy gathering of personnel that had convened to plan before the destruction of Starkiller Base, the war council assembles in the largest conference room on base, a solemn sort of determination filling the air around them. General Organa stands at the head of the table, flanked by Admiral Ackbar, Admiral Statura, Major Ematt, Colonel Brance, Lieutenant Commander Nien Nunb, and the members of Black Squadron. Rose and Paige stand beside Kaydel, the communications officer with blonde hair in twin buns, C-3PO, R2D2, and BB-8, Chewie, and Maz Kanata. As the de facto leaders of the former Troopers, Slip and Zeroes (now with the surnames Maisy and Turncoat, respectively, and the latter makes Finn feel lightheaded) are there, along with their three friends (who'd also taken new surnames): Levs Canto, Jate Goodshot, and Bea Twonines. And of course, Finn, Rey, Luke, Ffion, and Velle round out the crowd.

"According to the intelligence obtained from Lieutenant Mitaka, the First Order was weakened considerably by the destruction of Starkiller Base," Kaydel is saying. "But they still outnumber us more than a hundred to one in terms of manpower and firepower, and now they're looking to expand their allies by taking over planets that declared themselves neutral, like Artorias."

"Ryzka told me that the First Order is calling this plan the Last Resort," Ffion says. "That they'll invade the neutral planets and reward everyone who is loyal to them, and dispose of everyone who isn't. He was talking about building…building labor camps to house the undesirables until they either recanted or died."

"We need to liberate Artorias," Velle says, her voice hard from determination. Nods ripple through the crowd. "And every other planet that they will inevitably take over, if we want to save millions of innocent lives."

"Oh dear. With the destruction of the New Republic, if the First Order gains more allies, the odds of the Resistance's victory are over fifteen million, five hundred and seven thousand, two hundred—" General Organa's glare could melt paint, and 3PO quits while he's ahead. "To one."

"Thank you, 3PO," General Organa says wryly. R2 beeps at 3PO, who scoffs, offended. BB-8 makes a chirping noise that could be a laugh. "The odds are against us. I won't lie. But that has never stopped us before, and it shouldn't now." She leans forward, and everyone leans in, almost subconsciously. "We can expand our manpower and our firepower. We have old friends we can call upon for help, and still others to reach out to." She punctuates this statement with a glance at Slip and Zeroes, who both nod firmly.

"You have my forces from Takodana, and the loyalty of all I have come in contact with," Maz promises. Chewie moans something that might be a promise to bring in allies of his own. "We will help you fight the First Order to a standstill every step of the way."

"And what about Kylo Ren, General?" Major Ematt says, almost gently. "He is strong in the Force, and with time, he will only grow stronger. What are we going to do about him?"

General Organa's expression falters. Skywalker sums up all of their feelings. "He and Snoke might be strong in the Force," he says. "But so are we." He glances over at Rey and Finn, who feels himself straighten imperceptibly. "Leave him to us."

"We have more than the Force on our side," General Organa says. "We have hope. We believe in ourselves, and we believe in each other. When the war arrives at our doorstep — and make no mistake, it will come — our unity will help us prevail. No one among us will stand alone."

"Damn straight, General," Poe echoes, and all of Black Squadron says the affirmative.

"I'm glad we're all in agreement," General Organa says. She keeps her chin up, and clasps her hands together in front of her as her gaze swivels around the room. "May the Force be with us all."

* * *

"You have failed me, Kylo Ren."

Snoke's voice — cold and quiet — echoes throughout the throne room, which is packed to the corners with their allies. General Hux is here, and all of the highest ranked men and women of the First Order, and Captain Phasma, and the newly promoted Captain FN-2199, who had led the loyalist Troopers on the _Finalizer_ after General Kilson was killed. Kylo Ren forces himself to kneel in front of his master, to make eye contact. "Master, I didn't—"

"You disobeyed my direct orders," Snoke says, as though Kylo Ren hadn't even spoken. "You traveled to Artorias when you should have been completing your training. And you were bested by the same scavenger and Stormtrooper who defeated you in combat on Starkiller Base! You _failed."_ He scoffs. "I thought you had grown to be a worthy heir of your grandfather, but it seems you are still the same foolish boy with delusions of grandeur that you were when I found you."

Something deep within him frays and snaps. "Supreme Leader," he says. Calm, collected. "Have you ever heard the story of Darth Plagueis the Wise?"

"What are you—"

"Darth Sidious told the story to Darth Vader," Kylo Ren says. He slowly rises to his feet, casting off his master's attempt to make him kneel again. He will be subservient no longer. His time has come. "How Darth Plagueis was wise in the Dark Side of the Force. Powerful in the…unnatural abilities that were granted to him. He became powerful, and had everything he had ever hoped for. But secretly…he was afraid of losing power. And eventually, of course, he did."

"You dare to—"

"Darth Plagueis put his trust in his apprentice," Kylo Ren says. "That was his fatal mistake." A dark smile curves his mouth. "Ironic," he says. "He could save others from death, but not himself."

Snoke seems to realize then what will happen a second before it does, but it is not fast enough to stop Kylo Ren from summoning Force lightning to his hands — and casting it directly at his master.

What happens next comes in a series of snapshots, snippets that Kylo Ren's mind barely understands. An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power. A howl of pain. The acrid stench of burning flesh and blood filling the air. Nothing but blue light. He is a piece of flotsam thrown free by a million tons of pressure and energy, tethered to nothing and no one.

When Kylo Ren opens his eyes again, Snoke has fallen from his throne to the floor, a small, pathetic thing in a golden robe. His internal organs are crushed. His eyes bleed. His skin has curdled and crackled like charcoal. And still, somehow, the remains of his mouth form a smile. "My apprentice," he rasps. "If you strike me down in anger, I will always be with you."

Kylo Ren smiles. "I'm not angry, Master," he says.

Summoning his lightsaber to his hand, Kylo Ren slices Snoke's head off, and his master moves no more.

 _I'm worthy,_ Kylo Ren tells himself. The world is silent around him. None of his allies dare to move, dare to breathe without permission. The power at his fingertips, surging through his veins, is intoxicating. _I never needed to kill them to unlock my true potential. He was holding me back all along. And now I can take the victory that is rightfully mine._

The Supreme Leader is dead. Long live the Supreme Leader.

The Emperor takes his throne.

* * *

 _Once again, thank you to all of my readers. Here's the summary for the next part:_

 ** _Made of Stardust_**

 ** _Six months after the events of The Stars Walk Backward, both sides struggle to maintain the upper hand. While Supreme Leader Kylo Ren continues to implement the Last Resort, Finn and Rey complete their Jedi training, old friends offer aid to the Resistance, and Poe, Rose, Slip, and Zeroes continue to spread the sparks of rebellion far and wide. With the future of the galaxy at stake, the final battle between the Resistance and the First Order begins._**

 _I plan on releasing Made of Stardust this summer, if not much, much sooner — there's still a lot of editing and reworking that needs to be done until then, and I want to make sure all of the characters will be treated properly. (And as with this fic, I want to make it clear that this fic will not follow the plot of The Rise of Skywalker at all.)_

 _If you have any questions or comments about this fic or the series as a whole, I'm on tumblr at thescavengerandthestormtrooper and am available to be ranted at at any time._

 _Until next time, this has been boasamishipper, signing out._


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